


Call Me A Safe Bet, I'm Betting I'm Not

by ImJustLikeMe



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 123,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustLikeMe/pseuds/ImJustLikeMe
Summary: “Even though scientists are still quite baffled after multiple millennia of medical and technological advances of exactly how the soulmarks work, there has been enough research and study that we now know when and how to expect them… There has yet to be one soulmate coupling occur before the female has experienced a menstrual cycle and the male to begin producing sperm. In short, soulmarks have never appeared before entering puberty…There are many, many more cases in which two people have insisted they are soulmates only to not mark with one another. All in all, only about 3% of couplings are correct in predicting they are soulmates before marks form.”***Betty Cooper is four years old when she meets Jughead Jones.She knows he is her soulmate, he's not so sure.





	1. Call Me A Safe Bet

**Author's Note:**

> MANY MANY MANY thanks to Jandy, aka jandjsalmon, for beta-ing this for me, and helping with me tenses because I was flipfloping between past and present and she wanted it to be present, so she basically fixed all that no matter how I wrote it. Mad props, girl!  
> Also: she made an aesthetic for this story!! One will come out per chapter because we are both obsessed!   
> She is wonderful and you should all follow her on tumblr if you have one! 
> 
> This story came to me out of nowhere and I knew it would be hard to pull off, hence me asking Jandy, and so here it is! We put a lot of work into it, she has been my sounding board, and I have been keeping her in the dark with it all (and she hates me for it). 
> 
> So please read and review and kudos!!   
> It would mean the world to me!!!
> 
> Story title, and chapter titles, from the band Brand New, more specifically the song The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot

     “A child who is the result of a soulmate coupling has a 96% chance of having a soulmate of their own. This statistic has remained steady for the past decade… A child who is the result of an unnatural coupling has a 41% chance of finding a match. This statistic has dropped dramatically from 49% since the last complete census, which is unsurprising seeing as our annual survey has detected the pattern for several years…”

From the _Annual Study and Comprehension of Couplings, 2000 Census Edition_

***

Betty Cooper is four years old when she meets Jughead Jones.

She just moved to the neighborhood, was forging a fast friendship with her next-door-neighbor, and always trailing behind her big sister.

But right now, in a pale-yellow dress and pigtails, she sits in a puddle with tears streaming down her face, hiccupping as she tries to take a breath.

“Hi, are you okay?” she hears a soft voice from behind her and she tries to wipe her face before they see the raindrop sized tears falling from her eyes, but it’s useless. They are coming too hard, and so, so fast. “Hey,” the boy repeats, coming around to the front of her with kind eyes and a crown on his head.

“H—Hello,” Betty stutters, blinking profusely with redness climbing up her neck.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, kneeling in the puddle with her.

“Do—Don’t, you’ll get dirty too,” she tells him frantically, forcing herself to stand so he would too.

The boy shrugs and gave her a funny smile that makes her want to laugh. “I don’t mind a little mud, don’t worry. Are you hurt?” he asks again.

Betty simply shakes her head and hiccups to herself, their hands still connected.

“What happened?”

She took in a deep breath and sniffles before trying to answer. “I— my mommy told me not to get dirty before going to my Gram—Grammy’s and that boy Chuck pushed me into this pud—uddle,” she gets out in a breathy voice.

“Chuck’s a bully,” he agrees and squeezes her little fingers. “I’m Jughead.”

“Jughead?” Betty’s nose scrunches. “Is that really your name? Or are you teasing me?”

“I wouldn’t do that, but it’s not my real name. It’s my nickname, I like it better than the real one. Everyone calls me it, I swear,” he promises.

“I’m Betty, but it’s not my real name. It’s Elizabeth, but my mom is the only one that calls me that and that’s when she’s mad at me, like she will be when she sees my dress.”

“I’m sure if you tell your mom what happened she won’t be mad,” the boy—Jughead—assures her.

“You don’t know my mom, she can stay mad for a long time, especially if I did something she told me not to,” Betty tells him matter-of-factly.

“Your mom will be mad, but I promise she won’t be forever.”

“How do you know?” Betty asks, not wanting to let go.

“Moms can’t stay mad at us forever, that’s why they are Moms. My mom says all I have to do is smile at her and she forgets what I did to get in trouble.”

Betty giggles as he loosens his grip. “Your mom sounds nice.”

“She is, but she cries a lot right now,” he admits.

“Why?” Betty’s eyes go wide at his confession.

“She’s pregnant with my little sister,” he declares with a smile wide on his face. “Dad says it’s because of Jellybean.”

“Jellybean?”

“My little sister, that’s what we call her,” he answers as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Just like they call me Jughead.”

“Your family has weird names,” Betty states, then frowns. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean—“

“Betty, it’s okay, we do. You should hear my real name,” he insists.

“What is it?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Juggie!” she whines and pulls on his hands, making him stumble closer to her. She feels her feet squish and remembers how upset her mom will be. Her once bright white saddle shoes are now soaked and gray, and there is wetness climbing up her dress making it look murky brown. “My Grammy bought me this dress for my birthday, that’s why I have to wear it,” she informs him. “When I come home wet my mom’s going to be so ma—mad,” she starts tearing up again.

“Hey, hey, shh,” the boy with the crown comes forward and hugs her close, his body leaning over hers and enveloping her in warmth.

Betty feels her skin vibrating, radiating heat, and it spreads from her toes to the crest of her head, making her giggle.

After too long, Betty leaves his arms and surveys the boy in front of her. She smiles at his dark hair and blue-green eyes, and the crown on his head made of cardboard and colored in, probably by him and suddenly she just knows, can feel it with every fiber of her being.

“You’re my soulmate,” she says excitedly, about to tackle him in a hug again when she’s interrupted.

 “Betty!” They both turn at the sound of a woman calling her name.

“That’s my mom, I have to go.”

Jughead nods, but looks sad. “Here,” he removes the crown from his head and puts it on hers. “Tell her you’re a princess and you can’t yell at princesses.”

Betty steadies it atop her head. “Thank you, Juggie.”

He smiles at her again and she feels her belly swoop. “Have fun at your Grammy’s. You’d better go before your mom comes looking.”

Betty steps forward and kisses him on the cheek before running away, not daring to look back at the boy who gave up his crown for her.

“Elizabeth Cooper! What have you done?” her mother shrieks upon sight of her and drags her into the house for a change. “You were only outside for twenty minutes and I told you not to get dirty!”

“I didn’t mean to, Mommy! I was pushed, but a boy came and saved me,” she tells her as she tugs off her soggy shoes and socks.

Alice looks up at her with a small smile. “Did he? Is that where you got your crown?”

Betty grins and kicks her legs even though her mom is using a rag on her knees to get rid of the evidence. “Yep! And you know what?”

“Hm?”

“He’s my soulmate.”

Alice looks up at her with eyebrows raised. “And how do you know this?”

Betty shrugs. “I don’t know, I just know.”

“Sweetie, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“He just is, Mom,” Betty insists.

Alice replaces her yellow dress with a lilac one and tightens her pigtails. “Well, if you think so,” she placates her daughter while offering her hand to get downstairs.

Betty skips outside to get in the car with her sister and smiles for the rest of the day ‘cause Jughead is her soulmate and she just knows it.

***

     “The biggest bloom of unnatural babies was most decidedly during the mid-to-late sixties due to the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock n’ Roll’ mantra that overtook the world. It was due to these births that the number once again surged during the nineties to early two-thousands due to the unlikeliness of having soulmates of their own… It is only telling what will happen when these unnatural children grow up whether the number will increase again…

We are starting to see speculation of whether it is morally wrong to make an unnatural child knowing what the future holds, but if the number of unnatural couplings continues to increase every two to three decades, then why do we still stigmatize ‘unnatural’ couplings and children?”

From _Natural vs Unnatural: The Great Divide, 2005_

*

At seven years old Betty stretches her neck to look out the car window to spot a gray beanie or a tuft of black hair and frowns when she sees nothing.

“Betty, stop moping, we’re home,” Alice chastises from the front as they pull into the driveway.

 “I’ve never been apart from Jughead for this long, Mom,” Betty reminds her, once again fighting to look over Polly and out the window towards Archie’s house. “I didn’t like it.”

“Betty _still_ thinks Jughead is her soulmate!” Polly teases while pushing on her shoulder.

“He is, Polly!” Betty insists.

“Just because you think he’s cute—“ Betty pushes back on her sister’s shoulder, her face turning pink.

“Girls! Enough!” Alice orders, her tone firm.

Betty jumps out of the car before her dad even has it turned off and grins when she sees Archie coming down his front steps. “Hey!”

“Betty!” Archie’s face lights up and he drops the basketball he is holding to catch her in a hug. “You were gone forever! How was Montana?”

Betty shrugs. “Hot, but not too bad. My grandparents don’t have air conditioning, and Grandma insisted Polly and I learn to knit because it’s ‘a useful hobby’ so I have about eight funny looking scarves.”

“Jug said you were having fun with the horses though,” he reminds her.

“Yeah, I learned to ride and everything! It’s a farm so it also meant cleaning stalls and other gross stuff. But, I did get to see my grandma’s horse have a baby! Well, a foal, and it was so cool. She let me and Polly name it!”

“What did you decide on?”

“Pumpernickel.” Archie’s nose scrunches in response and she laughs. “We call him Nicky, if it helps?”

“A little, but only a little,” he says and they both laugh again.

“Where’s Jug? He knows I’m coming home today, he said he would be with you around the house.”

Archie starts bouncing his basketball again as they walk towards the hoop in his driveway. “I don’t know, I think he got in trouble or something, he hasn’t been around the past few days. My mom wouldn’t let me go to his house. She said if he was grounded it would just make him sad he couldn’t come out and play,” he explains with a shrug. “Hey, did you get me anything?”

“Betty!” Polly runs out onto the porch. “Mom said to come get your bags and give her your dirty stuff!”

Betty rolls her eyes. “I have to go, but I did get you something, so hang around! I have to dig it out of my suitcase and I have stuff for Jug and Jellybean too.”

Thirty minutes later, after dropping off Archie’s bear pawprint, she is practically running through backyards to Jughead’s house, her stomach full of butterflies and warmth. She knocks incessantly on his front door, unable to stop herself.

His mom opens the door, Jellybean on her hip. “Betty!” she greets, a warm smile on her lips. Immediately Jellybean starts kicking and babbling, wanting to be put down.

“Bean!” Betty exclaims, getting down on her knees to hug the three-year-old. “Did you miss me?”

“I think she missed you almost as much as Jughead did,” Gladys jokes.

“Aw, well, I got you this,” Betty says with a smile, pulling a dreamcatcher out of the bag she dropped upon seeing her favorite toddler.

“Pwetty,” Jellybean coos, her chubby fingers holding onto the circle made of strings. “Mama!” she goes on to show her mother.

“It keeps your bad dreams away,” Betty tells her. “You just put it on the wall near your bed, and every time it forms a knot it saved you from a bad dream.”

Jellybean grins and holds the dreamcatcher up to her face like prison bars.

“Jelly!” Gladys sighs and takes the gift from her hands. “Sorry, that is very sweet of you, Betty, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Betty insists, standing up straight and smiling as the dark-haired girl hugged her knees. “Is Juggie grounded? Arch said he hadn’t seen him in a few days.”

Gladys reaches down with a small frown to pick up Jellybean, probably to keep her from running, the three-year-old is a firecracker. “No, he’s not.”

“Is… is everything okay? Is he okay?” Betty asks, stepping forward in panic.

“No, no, honey, he’s fine, don’t worry about that. He’s just upset with his father and I, I’m afraid.”

Betty wants to ask why, but knew that wasn’t her place. “Do you think he’ll see me?”

“I don’t think he’d be able to say no,” Gladys answers honestly. “I’m hoping you’ll talk sense into him, get him to come down from the treehouse, save FP from running snacks and drinks up there.”

“He’s not coming down for food?”

“He’s really upset, Betty,” Gladys tells her and frowns as Jellybean begins kicking and crying to be put down. “You go ahead, tell him that his baby sister misses him, okay?”

Betty nods and heads back down the front steps to go around to the back of his house. What could be so wrong that it made Jughead exile himself to the treehouse and not come down, even for food? And he wasn’t even coming down to see Jellybean? He adored Jellybean.

Jughead’s house was one of the smaller ones in the neighborhood, probably half the size of hers, but she didn’t care. His house was infinitely more fun than hers, Jellybean was always getting into something and his parents treated her as one of their own, she never waited for an invitation to come over, she just knew she was always welcome.

At least his parents don’t scold him for saying they were soulmates like hers did. Betty hates how Polly teases her. Polly says that they weren’t normal kids because they actually believed they were soulmates, but Polly was only ten, so what did she know? She doesn’t have a mark yet to act like she knew more than Betty.

Betty shields her eyes from the sun, pouting at the sight of the treehouse and how the rope ladder was pulled up.

“Jug!” Betty calls up the tree, pausing as she hears movement up in the wooden fortress. “Juggie?”

“Betty? Um, wait!” she finally hears and there is a loud clatter.

“Jug, are you okay?”

His mop of black hair appears out of the window, or rather, hole in the wall. “You’re home?”

“Did you forget about me?” she teases, smiling wide at the sight of him.

“No, I—of course not!”

“Well, are you going to let me up?” she asks.

“Betty, I—I don’t feel good, I don’t want to get you sick, you should go home.”

She crosses her arms the way her mom does when she means business. “Nice try, your mom already told me you’re okay, you’re just mad at her and your dad. What happened?” Even from far away she can see his face fall, but he doesn’t answer. “Jug, you don’t… you don’t want to see me?” she asks more quietly.

“I do, I do, I’m sorry,” he calls down and disappears into the treehouse. “Watch out,” he warns before the rope drops.

Betty climbs up as fast as she can. She never quite got along with the rope ladder and usually made Jughead go up behind her because she was nervous she’d fall down. Today, this wasn’t a problem. “Juggie!” she squeals and jumps on him. Her exuberance causes him to stumble, but he still holds onto her tightly. “I missed you so much, Juggie,” she whispers into his shoulder.

His hold only becomes stronger. “I missed you too, Betts.”

She’s been gone for ten days in Montana, the longest she’s ever been away from him and the moment they had crossed the state line Betty felt on edge. It made her itch knowing how far away Jughead was, but she hadn’t been able to say anything to her parents about it, they would have just said she was complaining.

He holds her for a long moment, longer than she expected, and she pulls away to look at his face. “Juggie, what’s wrong? Your mom said you’re mad.”

“Don’t worry, Betts, it’s not a big deal,” he assures her.

 “Your mom said you won’t come down, not even for food, Jug. Something is wrong so just tell me what it is.” 

“My dad brings me food and stuff, don’t worry,” he insists like it is no big deal.

“Okay, well how do you go to the bathroom?” she asks and he turns pink. “What? You don’t go up here, do you? I know you’re a boy, but—“

“Betty, stop,” Jughead urges. “I sneak into the house to go, so let’s just drop it.”

“Well why are you up here?” she looks around and notes the sleeping bag, flashlights, lantern, and stockpile of clothes and food. “Did you move up here or something?”

“Betty, it’s nothing, don’t worry.”

“Jug, you can talk to me,” she tells him softly with a hand to his cheek. “You’re my soulmate.” At that Jughead jerks away and she feels her heart clench. “Juggie?”

“How was Montana? What name did you decide on for the foal?”

“Jughead,” Betty steps towards him. “I don’t care about Montana, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like you don’t want to see me?”

“I’m not, I mean, I do want to see you. I’m happy you’re home,” he says, but his voice cracks.

“Jug, is this a boy thing? Should I ask Archie—“

“No, Betty, no, it’s not a boy thing. It’s a me thing,” he tells her and plops down onto his sleeping bag.

Betty follows suit and tries not to notice how he moves away when their knees touch. “Here, I got you a present.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he whispers as she hands him the bag. He pulls out the brown leather wrist cuff, his fingers sliding over the embroidery.

“I made it,” she tells him, smiling a little. “Well, I picked it out and what I wanted etched into it.” She waits for him to say something, but he just stares at the cuff. “It’s… it’s a crown, like the one you gave me on the day we met,” she goes on as his finger moves over the three-point crown. “Jughead? Are you okay?”

Jughead blinks and clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, it’s… it’s great, Betts, thank you.”

“That’s not all,” she tells him, flipping it over in his hand to reveal the JB etched into the underside. “J for Jughead, B for Betty, but it also fits for Jellybean. I thought it was a cute.”

“It is, it is,” he whispers.

“Jughead,” Betty starts again, this time taking his face in both of her hands to make him look at her. “Please tell me what’s wrong, I can help.”

Jughead sniffles and Betty watches as a fat tear rolls down his cheek. “Betty,” he chokes out before another falls.

“Juggie,” she murmurs, pulling him close but the tears end there. That doesn’t stop him from clinging to her, his face buried in her neck. Even though he is so upset, being this close to him is the first time she felt peace in ten days.

It took a few minutes, but finally Jughead pulls away with a blush creeping up his neck. Betty just smiles at him, slipping his hat off his head to run her fingers through his unruly locks. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, Juggie,” she reminds him and he smiles softly. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers in response.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” she tells him. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” When he doesn’t answer she leans back against the treehouse wall and sighs. “Is it… me? Your mom said you weren’t happy with her, is it because of me?”

Jughead’s neck snaps to look at her. “No, Betty, no, it’s not. You know they love you.”

“Well, I,” she stops and hugs herself. “My parents don’t think we’re soulmates, if your parents don’t either—“

“Betty, stop,” Jughead cuts in. “It’s not about you, I promise.”

“What’s wrong? You won’t talk to me, you won’t come down from up here, what did your parents do that was so bad?”

“They lied!” Jughead finally exclaims. “They lied about everything,” he goes on, his voice cracking again.

“About what, Jug?”

Jughead looks over at her, his lip quivering. “Where are your parents soulmarks, Betty?”

“On their wrists,” Betty answers easily. “You know that. Did your parents finally tell you where theirs are?”

“I thought… I thought that they just had them in a _weird_ place, you know? Somewhere they wouldn’t show me, but,” he stops and looks away from her.

“What, Juggie?” Betty urges him on.

Jughead looks forward, unwilling to meet her eye. “My parents aren’t soulmates, Betty.”

“What? What do you…” she trails off, a breath caught in her throat.

“I’m an ‘unnatural child’, Betty,” he explains and finally looks at her. “And if—if I am, then you and me, we-” he stops to cough awkwardly.

“No, Juggie, stop, we’re still soulmates,” Betty tells him, understanding his pain. “We can—you’re still mine, you always will be. That—they don’t matter, we’re different.”

“It does though,” Jughead whispers. “What if we’re not—“

“ _No_ ,” Betty says so forcefully Jughead can’t help but keep eye contact. “We are, we are soulmates. You believe it too, right? You… you always thought we are, didn’t you? You didn’t just say we were because I said—“

“No, Betty, I always felt that we were,” he promises her. “From the moment I first hugged you.”

“Me too, that’s what matters, not your parents or mine or Polly, okay? You’re mine, Jughead Jones.”

Jughead nods, taking her hand in his and she smiles at the touch. “I’m yours, Betty Cooper.”

“And I’m yours,” she counters, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. Betty smiles as he once again turns pink, but doesn’t mention it. “Here, put on your present,” she urges, holding it up for him. She helps him snap it together and smiles again as he looks down at it fondly.

“Thank you.”

“I got Jellybean a dreamcatcher, she tried to eat it, but your mom stopped her.”

Jughead smiles himself. “She tries to eat everything,” he reminds her.

“She misses you,” Betty tells him. “Your mom does too. Are you going to stay up here forever? Am I going to have to move in when we grow up?”

“Well, by then I’m sure I will have fixed it up for you,” Jughead teases and she pushes on his shoulder.

“Juggie, you can’t be mad at them forever.”

“They lied to me, Betty. I asked so many times what their soulmarks were, where they were, how they got them—“

“And you know what they say, it can be hard to talk about having soulmarks. Remember, they said it can feel funny to talk about.”

“They don’t have them, Betty!” he huffs and then shakes his head. “They don’t have anything to feel weird about.”

“They didn’t want to make you sad, and I probably didn’t make anything easier coming along.”

“What, most people don’t find their soulmates at four years old?”

“Shush, you,” Betty chides. “I wish you would just get your mark when you meet, that you didn’t have to wait until-” she stops and makes a funny face. Talking about getting her first period was just not something she felt comfortable with.

“Me too,” Jughead agrees.

“You have to forgive them, Jug, they just didn’t want to upset you, and you have to come down. Who will keep Jellybean out of trouble?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t at Archie’s when you came home.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “Jug! I don’t care about that! I just want you to be okay and I don’t want our future home to be this treehouse. I need running water, Juggie.”

Jughead smiles at her, all warm and like before when he never doubted what they were to each other. “Okay, I’ll go back to the house, but only because of Jellybean. I don’t trust anyone else to make sure stays out of trouble and gets fed properly with the good stuff, not just vegetables.”

“We have to make sure _you_ get fed properly, Jug, you’re a growing boy. Now, come on, we have to tell Jellybean her big brother is moving back home.”

As soon as they make their way down the ladder Jellybean is outside squealing, jumping at Jughead’s knees and reaching up to him.

Betty smiles watching Jughead pick up his little sister with all his might.

His mom comes out onto the back porch and looks down at her children with a knowing smile and winks at Betty, who nods back at her.

It doesn’t matter to her that Jughead’s parents weren’t soulmates, that Jug was an unnatural child, or even that they lied to him. Jughead was her soulmate, they were going to have marks, and well, if they don’t… she bites her lip while watching Jug with Jellybean and let out a long breath.

If Jughead Jones isn’t her soulmate, then she doesn’t want one.

***

     “Even though scientists are still quite baffled after multiple millennia of medical and technological advances of exactly how the soulmarks work, there has been enough research and study that we now know when and how to expect them… There has yet to be one soulmate coupling occur before the female has experienced a menstrual cycle and the male to begin producing sperm. In short, soulmarks have never appeared before entering puberty…

In most heterosexual cases, roughly 93%, it is the female who triggers the marking with touch… It is only with her consent and initiation of the physical contact that the mark will reveal itself.”

From _The Science, or Lack Thereof, Behind Soulmarks, 2008_

*

“You don’t even talk to me anymore!”

Jughead steps back, shaking his head, and curling his fists together. “You’re kidding, right?” he questions, a sardonic smile overtaking his mouth. “Jesus, Betty, I feel like you’re the only person I can talk to anymore!”

“Well, you could have fooled me. I only ever see you in school, the most time I get with you is during recess, and even now all you want to do is hang out with Archie.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I don’t fit into your schedule between horseback riding lessons, ballet, piano, and ‘learning’ at your parent’s office on the weekends,” he replies, air quotes at all. “In case you haven’t noticed, or if you even bothered to, I have a lot going on at home, and at least when I’m with Archie I don’t have to deal with feelings and talking and stupid fighting!”

Betty nods and begins to stumble back away from him. “Right, well, I hope you enjoy spending the rest of your life with Archie, I’m sure the two of you will be very happy together,” she insists before turning and running away, her ponytail bobbing behind her.

“Betty. Betty!” she hears him yell after her, but she just ignores it.

Betty really, _really_ hates being ten years old.

She was at that awkward age where everyone else was growing in ways she wasn’t, especially since her birthday is at the end of the summer making it so she is younger than almost everyone in her grade—both Jughead and Archie were already eleven. By the time she was eleven, Jughead would be turning twelve less than two months later! She hates feeling _so young_.

“You’re very advanced for your age, Elizabeth,” her mother has told her for most of her life. She was talking at ten months old, walking too, and her mom worked with her so much at home that she knew how to read before first grade even started. It didn’t help that at four she met her soulmate which makes her feel even older, at least emotionally.

If she isn’t little anymore, and she isn’t ‘mature’ like Polly insisted she was since she finally got her first period, then what is she?

All Betty knows is that she isn’t allowed to have sleepovers with the boys in the treehouse anymore, she isn’t even allowed to be left alone with them when at each other’s houses because their bodies were changing (her mom’s words), and things were happening to Archie and Jughead that she doesn’t understand or couldn’t relate to. Sometimes she finds them laughing and clowning around about things and when she asks, they won’t tell her because she’s ‘a girl’ - like she hasn’t been one all along.

It’s like as soon as fifth grade started her whole world flipped upside down. She wasn’t a kid, she wasn’t a teenager, Jughead and Archie somehow became taller than her overnight, half the girls in her grade had boobs and hormones were raging, and she still felt like little Betty.

Little Betty who doesn’t need a bra and was crazy for sticking to her guns believing Jughead was her soulmate, especially since their chances were slim with him being an ‘unnatural child’- God she hated that term- and she doesn’t understand why suddenly being a girl mattered _so much_ to everyone, to her parents, to Archie, to Jughead’s parents, even Jughead himself was treating her weird.

“He’s just being a boy, Betty,” Kevin assures her, his hand moving up and down her back as she sniffled.

“You’re a boy,” she counters.

“I don’t think I’m like other boys,” Kevin replies and she shrugs, that was true.

“I miss him,” Betty murmurs while wrapping her arms around her legs as she curls into herself on the ground. “He’s never around anymore. When I go by his house he says he has to stay home, that he told his parents he’d do this or he promised Jellybean that or he’s in trouble for talking back. Then, when I go over Archie’s Jughead is there, and he just looks at me like…” she trails off and swallows the lump in her throat.

“Like what?”

“Like he doesn’t think we’re,” she stops and coughs awkwardly, “what we are, you know?”

Kevin is the only person besides their families and Archie that knows she and Jughead believe they’re soulmates.

“Oh, Betty,” Kevin coos before hugging her.

“Why doesn’t he want me anymore? Doesn’t he still think that we—?” she chokes out and buries her head in Kevin’s shoulder.

They stay like that for a few minutes until everyone on the playground starts running towards some kind of commotion near the chain-link fence at the edge of the field.

“Fire!” someone yells and both Betty and Kevin take off after the crowd.

Betty pushes forward, finding Archie’s mop of red hair sticking up near the front of the herd and not seeing Jughead’s beanie among them. When she does find him, she’s speechless at what she’s seeing.

Jughead is in front of her, a bush still smoldering with the grass around it now black, with soot on his face. He’s looking down as a group of teachers all start talking to him at once, and a police officer comes walking over with the principal.

Betty feels as though her feet are glued to the ground. What happened? Jughead started a fire? How, with what? Why?

Suddenly the teachers usher them back inside the school, but Archie and Betty both stand still. She wants to run up and defend him, to tell them that they are wrong, it can’t have been her Jughead, but the look of absolute guilt on his face is too telling.

Then Jughead finally looks up at them, and Betty makes a move to rush forward. She would go down saying he didn’t mean to do anything wrong because she knew he would never hurt anyone, ever, but Archie catches her arm.

“I don’t think now is a good time, Betty,” he whispers.

She looks back towards her soulmate and sees him walking away toward the police cars with the principal, his head twisting back to meet her eyes, silently pleading with her.

She doesn’t know what exactly he wants from her right then, but she knows that just standing there as if she isn’t on his side wasn’t helping. Betty couldn’t just sit back, she couldn’t let him think she didn’t _care_.

“Juggie!” she cries, taking off into a run after him after ripping her arm from Archie’s hold. He turns just in time to catch her in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she repeats over and over into his shoulder.

He’d holds onto her tightly, neither listening to the police offers or principal telling them to let go. “I didn’t mean to, Betty, you know I wouldn’t,” he keeps saying and she doesn’t know if he means the fire or how they’re fighting.

“I know, it’s okay,” she assures him with tears falling down her face. “It’s okay, Jug.”

It’s Archie who manages to pull them apart and he holds onto her as Jughead is put into the back of a police car with his head hung low, unable and unwilling to look back at his two best friends intertwined as Betty cries tears over him.

...

Jughead is sent to a juvenile detention center for three weeks and she isn’t able to talk to him at all.

Betty doesn’t know how to be on her own in this way.

Ever since she was four years old, Jughead has always been there. He’s the first person she calls when she’s upset, or when she’s so happy she can’t contain it, or when she just needs someone to sit with her because even though she’s only ten her parents still expect so much from her. She’s never gone this long without hearing his voice or seeing his face, she has never felt so alone in the world before, but with him gone, locked away, she does. She’s alone.

But she isn’t even worried about herself. Betty doesn’t know if he’s okay, if he’s lonely or overwhelmed, if he’s eating or pushing food around on his plate, if he’s crying himself to sleep or not sleeping at all. She doesn’t know how the other kids are treating him, if he’s going to be gone for another month or six.

She doesn’t know anything and it’s driving her crazy. Being away from him makes her want to pull her hair out and rip her skin off. Betty can’t sleep, can barely eat, can’t concentrate in school or care to tag along with her parents to their office.

It’s not until Archie comes running out of his house after school on a Wednesday almost a month later, all red-faced and breathy words, that she has received any news.

Jughead is being released, coming home to her, finally. Gladys had told Fred so the kids could stop worrying, and Betty immediately feels herself start to break the false image that everything was okay that she’s been building over the past few weeks when all she was really doing was falling apart without him.

He comes home the following Friday morning, but she isn’t allowed to see him, Archie either. They ask if they can come by the house after school, but his parents say they needed time to sort things out with him, to talk to him alone without a social worker or counselor, and she understands, she really does, but—she misses him so much that her bones hurt.

So she finds herself tip-toeing around the neighborhood at three AM wrapped in a blanket instead of a jacket with a flashlight in her hand.

Jughead’s bed is right next to the window and he has always been a night owl, so she hopes she won’t have to throw rocks because her aim has never been very good.

Betty uses the flashlight in his window, turning it off and on to get his attention. It only took a minute before the window opens and Jughead’s head pokes out, free of his beanie. The sight makes her breath catch.

“Jug,” she murmurs, not realizing she was shivering until right then.

“Treehouse,” he whisper-yells and disappears back inside.

Betty sprints for the treehouse, cursing herself for not planning ahead and dressing appropriately. It had been a spur of the moment decision—she’d been unable to sleep and was jumping out of her skin knowing Jughead was so close, but so far away. So without thinking, she had grabbed a blanket, put her stupid bunny slippers on and snuck out through the basement door. Now, she is freezing, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, an old shirt of Jug’s that no longer fit him, and said floppy-eared slippers.

Less than five minutes later she hears Jughead making his way up the ladder. By then she is sol cold that she’s jumping up and down and wiggling like crazy to create body heat.

“Jesus, Betty, it’s thirty degrees out here and you—“ he’s cut off when she jumps on him, wrapping her arms around him and making him drop whatever he was holding.

“I missed you so much,” she can’t help but sob into his shoulder. “You can never go away like that again, okay? Promise me, please, never do that again,” she pleads with hot tears falling down her cheeks.

Jughead slowly lowers them to the ground and holds her tightly, and she vaguely notes Jug had carried up more blankets. “I’m sorry, Betty, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his breath warm on her neck. “I never meant to leave you, I never—I’m so sorry.”

Betty clings to the lapels of his jacket, not pulling far away even when she is done crying. “Are you okay? Did they treat you well? What happened? Were the other kids—“

“I’m fine, Betty,” he assures her, his hands cupping her cheeks. “God, when was the last time you slept?” he asks, the pads of his thumbs moving over the dark purple rims of her sleep deprived eyebags.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “I couldn’t stop worrying about you, wondering if you were okay, if _you_ were sleeping and eating or even coming home.”

“I’m home, I’m home, okay? I’m not going back there,” he tells her. “I tried to get them to let me call you, I swear, but I could only call the numbers my parents approved, and they only had theirs on the list. A counselor literally dialed the phone so I couldn’t even try to—“

“I know you tried, I tried too. Your parents said you needed the time to understand that your actions had consequences, consequences like not being able to talk to me.”

“I hate them for that, I really do. I don’t care what they do to me, I don’t care about their drinking or the mess it creates, but not letting me talk to you… I needed you to be okay,” he whispers, their foreheads resting on one another.

“What’s going on? Are you sure you’re never going back? Did they decide on anything? My mom said the school could charge you—“

“I’m not going back,” he interrupts. “I got let out because I was an ‘exemplary youth’. I swear Betty, I did everything they asked me to just so I could get out for you. It was an accident, I was just so angry and I had the matches in my pocket,” he goes on, shaking his head at himself. “I was just playing with them to distract myself, I dropped one and it hit the bush. I ran for help as soon as it happened. I admitted I did something wrong, I told them I knew it was stupid, I knew it was my fault. They said accepting that was a big deal or something, and that I ran for help was good on my part. The school isn’t charging me with anything, but I have to do community service, mostly to do with volunteering for things no one ever does.”

“I know you didn’t mean to. A rumor spread that you were trying to light the school on fire, but Archie and I told everyone it was an accident. Archie actually got into a fight with Reggie, they haven’t spoken in two weeks.”

“Reggie has a big mouth, it doesn’t surprise me,” Jughead murmurs. “My mom told me you came by every day, or at least every other day, to play with Jellybean since I wasn’t around. Thank you so much, Betty, you have no idea—“

“Because you didn’t tell me, Jug!” Betty interjects, her eyes watery again. Jughead looks down, ashamed. “You didn’t tell me about how hard it’s been for you at home, you wouldn’t even let me in the house the past couple months. Did you think I would judge you or your parents—“

“No, no, I just—I wanted to fix it before it broke, I guess,” he admits.

“You’re eleven, Juggie, you can’t fix that. I don’t care how ‘emotionally mature’ we are, or whatever.”

“My dad always drank, but it’s never been this bad, this much. Then all of a sudden he was home all the time and drinking even more. He tried to keep it a secret, but eventually he got caught. He lost his job, Betty.”

“What? Did he and Fred have a fight?”

Jughead lets in a big sniff. “You could say that. Fred didn’t want my dad stealing supplies from job sites and my dad didn’t see the big issue with it.”

“Jug,” Betty sighs and wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry.”

“How does my dad not realize what he did? He got fired, Betty, he was Fred’s go-to foreman, he made good money, and now…”

“Does he have a plan?”

“Yeah, his plan of watching Fred flounder without him is going really well. It’s been three months and Fred hasn’t slipped up yet,” Jughead replies sardonically.

“Well, maybe now that you’re home you can try to talk to Archie, see if Fred will take him back, tell him your situation—“

“My dad won’t do that, Betts, he’s too proud,” Jughead tells her. “My mom is getting a job at Pop Tate’s and now my dad’s angry because he said she doesn’t believe in him to provide for us. When I got home today everything just blew up. Jellybean was so happy to see me and all I wanted was for them to just pretend for two minutes that everything was okay, just for her. I can take care of myself, but she’s only six. She was so happy to see me, Betts, and God, I know it’s only been a few weeks but she got so big.”

“Once I went over there after knowing you were going to be gone for a while and I saw how it was,” Betty stops and presses a kiss to his nose when he looks down. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Juggie,” she whispers and then peppers kisses all over his cheeks until he looks up with a small smile. “Once I saw how it was I made sure to go over every day if I could to play with her, get her out of the house, you know? All she did was babble on about you, she missed you so much.”

“I can’t tell you how thankful I am that she has you. She loves you so much, you know? She says you’re her sister.”

“I am,” Betty agrees without hesitation. “How much trouble are you in with your parents?”

“Well, between them just plain yelling at me for being so stupid, and telling me how my actions hurt Jellybean, and complaining about how I made them look, I haven’t exactly gotten a punishment yet. They’re actually more pissed that I told a counselor at the center about their drinking.”

“Is it really your mom too? I know your dad, but her too? I don’t think—“

“She’s better at hiding it, Betty, that’s all,” Jughead cuts her off and busies himself with placing blankets over her and she lets him make himself feel useful.

“It doesn’t make her a bad mother, Jug,” Betty whispers, taking his hands in hers. “I don’t want you to think I think she is, and I don’t even want you to think she is. She loves you and Jellybean so much, your dad too, they just have a problem. Do they at least see that?”

“My mom is starting to, I think. It was after I told about the drinking she started looking for a job and actually got one at Pop Tate’s. My dad says it’s not, that he is just drinking because he’s home all the time without a job, and he could stop if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry I was so caught up in all the stuff my parents have me doing that I didn’t notice—“

“I didn’t want you to, Betty, I wanted to handle it by myself, and instead I just made everything explode. I don’t want you to think that I prefer Archie to you either, he’s just more oblivious than you, he doesn’t ask questions, you know?”

“I was being petty. I just felt ignored and,” she lets out a long breath, “I feel like ever since we hit double-digits everything has changed so much. I’m not growing the way other girls are—“

“Betty,” Jughead cuts in with a sigh.

“And you and Archie just keep growing in other ways, and I get excluded from stuff because I’m a girl, but we’ve always been the three musketeers and now because I’m a girl—“

“Betty, I’ve always known you were a girl,” Jughead interrupts again. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Betty rolls her eyes and pushes on his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Everything may be changing around us, Betty, but you and me, that’s not going to, not if I have anything to say about it.”

“There’s nothing to say about it, we’re soulmates,” Betty insists.

Jughead just nods and their noses brushed together. “There’s… there’s more, Betty, about my parents.”

“What?”

“We, um, my dad lost the house.”

“What?” she repeats slowly, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“We’re moving.”

“What!?” Betty exclaims.

“He didn’t even let my mom know how bad it was. He faked going to work for months and just went to the bar, then sobered up enough to come home and drink more. The bank is taking the house back and my parents found a place at Sunnyside Trailer Park.”

“That’s across town, practically the Southside, you’re going to be so far away!”

“I’ll still go to Riverdale, Betts, and that is what matters.”

“Juggie, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this,” Betty whispers with tears in her eyes.

“The hits just keep on coming, huh?” he jokes.

“When?”

“By the end of the month,” Jughead answers. “I’ll have my own room, it’ll be the size of a shoebox, but Jellybean will have her own too, and I have to be strong for her, Betts. If my dad won’t quit drinking, and my mom doesn’t think she has a big enough problem that it will be hard to stop I have to be to Jellybean what they can’t.”

“We have to,” Betty corrects him. “I’m here too, I love her too, I’ll do anything I can to help.”

“I know you will, thank you,” he says, his voice shaky.

“But you can’t shut me out, Jug, you can’t keep trying to hide stuff like this from me. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, I know you’re not,” he whispers and buries himself in her shoulder and neck. “I feel like you’re the only thing I have left, Betty, everything is falling apart.”

“We’re not, and I’m always going to be here, lean on me all you need to. I’ll hold you up for as long as you need me.”

Jughead grips her tighter and they just hold each other for a few silent minutes.

“When did we stop being ten and start feeling old?”

“Hey, I’m the one who is ten here, buddy, you’re eleven,” Betty teases.

“Do you feel ten? ‘Cause I don’t feel eleven.”

“It’s my fault for moving to the neighborhood at four, I knew we were soulmates and made us age early.”

“Our families didn’t make it any easier to stay young, so you don’t get all the blame,” Jughead replies, his tone light despite the heavy conversation.

“As long as it was a joint effort,” Betty agrees.

“And we’re in it together.”

Betty nods and kisses his cheek. “Forever.”


	2. I'm Betting I'm Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for everything you left after the first chapter!!! It made a depressed girl smile for a couple days, so once again, thank you. I tried to make sure I answered everyone's questions in the comments, the one's I could answer without spoiling anything, anyways. If I didn't ask again and I'll do my best to reply!
> 
> Big shout out to Jandy again for helping with this chapter and beta-ing, and of course making the aesthetic for this chapter as well. Go to my tumblr to see it! www.anactualcaseofthetruth.com
> 
> The third chapter is well on it's way but I have been on vacation for a week so it's been hard to write, and I thought that since I'm going home tomorrow and will have some time to write again (hopefully) that the kudos and comments from this chapter will help push me along with it.

     “As with mostly everything relating to soulmarks, there is no science behind where they are formed, what shape they take, and why. There are theories, of course, and myths different people choose to believe depending on where their own mark is… The common myth most believe is ‘the closer to the heart, the stronger the bond’ when it comes to where the mark is on the body.

In numerous surveys done over the years it has been found that soulmates can come up with some sort of reasoning as to what their mark resembles in their lives. For example, one couple’s mark strongly resembled a bird as if painted by an impressionist and the two met at the local aviary.”

From _Myths and Mysteries Surrounding Soulmarks_ , 2010

*

Initially, it surprises even Betty that she enjoys working on cars with her dad. Her dad is real grease monkey, one of those guys who think ‘why pay someone else to do something when I can learn to do it myself?’. So when it becomes clear that Betty was very much like her mother in the way that she does what she wants, and does not like ballet, Hal suggests he get her interested in cars. ‘It’s a good life skill, Alice,’ he repeats over and over until her mother lets them give it a shot.

It fascinates Betty, learning how everything works, being able to fix something so broken, and she doesn’t try to think about what kind of metaphor that means for her life.

At thirteen, everything is becoming very real for her and Jughead, sort of. She hasn’t gotten her first period yet, so it is pretty much a waiting game, but in the mean time they have fun, do thirteen-year-old things, or in Jughead’s case, fourteen.

They go to the drive-in on the weekends, Archie too, of course, and a few others, but her and Jughead always snuggle under one blanket. Sometimes she sits between his legs with his arms around her, other times she is practically in his lap, but that’s usually when it’s a scary movie. When they go to Pop Tate’s he holds her hand under the booth, but her favorite is when he plays with her fingers and draws doodles on her palms. It gives her goosebumps and makes her feel floaty.

One thing they really haven’t done is kiss, and it annoys her to no end. Sure, they kiss each other’s cheeks and stuff, maybe even a peck or two on the lips, but they still haven’t _kissed_ yet and—Betty’s father was right, she is a lot like her mother, so that means she knows when to push and when to let it be.

With this, with Jughead, she lets it be because she understands why he is hesitant. His parents are an unnatural couple, he is an unnatural child, the statistics of unnatural children finding a soulmate drop little by little every year. She can tell him she knows he is hers until she’s blue in the face, but he needs the mark, he wants it so badly, and she can’t convince him with just words. So, she waits for the mark, she knows she should be getting her period soon, Polly did around her age, and when she does she’s going to walk up to Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third and kiss him fully on the lips, a real kiss not just a peck, and their marks will form and she will do a dance around him screaming ‘I told you so’ between not being able to stop kissing him, she thinks.

That is where Jughead finds her, in the garage, her head bent under the hood of the newest old car her dad wants to fix up, thinking about kissing him, _really_ kissing him.

“Betty!”

She turns at the sound of her favorite nine-year-old girl in time to see Jughead riding up on his bike, Jellybean standing on the pegs installed on the back wheels, her hands gripping his shoulders. Betty wipes off her hands as the little ball of energy runs up to her, talking a mile a minute.

“What’s up?” she asks as Jughead drops his bike and makes his way to her. “You rode your bike all the way here? That’s, like, a thirty-minute ride. Is everything okay?”

“Jelly, can you—“

“Beat it? Only for a minute, you never let me spend time with you and Betty! You always want her to yourself,” Jellybean responds as she skips off to tinker with some old toys of Betty and Polly’s in the back of the garage.

“Hi,” Betty greets, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Can you watch her for a couple hours? I have to go,” he says in hurried, hushed tones. “Mrs. Hannigan at the trailer park wasn’t home, and you’re the only one I trust with her besides Mrs. H and—“

“Of course, Jug, but what’s going on?”

“I—I don’t have time to explain right now, but,” he looks to make sure Jellybean isn’t paying attention. “I picked Jellybean up from a sleepover and when we got home,” he stops and is already making his way back to his bike so Betty follows.

“What?”

“My parents were going at it again, this time it’s bad. I have to get home and make sure they don’t kill each other or someone calls the cops,” he tells her while putting his helmet back on.

“Jug,” Betty whispers, grabbing his hand. “If it’s bad maybe you should stay too, let them sort it out. You’re just a kid, you shouldn’t be the one—“

“Betty, please don’t do this,” he pleads while getting on his bike now, forcing an end to the conversation. “They’re my parents, and—“ he stops and takes her hand again, this time squeezing it and leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back for her later, okay? Thank you, so much,” he murmurs before taking off, peddling faster than she has ever seen.

Not a second later Jellybean is at her side, scaring her. “Bean! Don’t do that!” Betty scolds.

“Sorry,” the younger girl apologizes sheepishly. “Can we do makeovers? And watch a movie? Can I pick? Jug never lets me pick the movie, and my mom said if I steal her makeup one more time—“

“Yes, Bean, to all of it,” Betty interrupts, smiling at the girl’s excitement and energy.

It’s because of Jughead that Jellybean has any sense of childhood, still has some innocence and hope. He takes care of her in every way, makes sure she goes to school, helps with her homework, calls Betty if he’s confused about something, takes on odd jobs around the trailer park to make money so he can take her out to eat once in a while, has lunch money, and can do things with her friends.

FP’s been skipping around from job to job for years now, getting sober every time Gladys threatens to take the kids, then falls off the wagon once she starts to trust him again. She hasn’t had a steady job either, her own drinking getting in the way, but insists it’s FP’s fault, then somehow manages to fall under his spell when he’s sober and think everything will be okay.

Betty doesn’t comment on it, because Jughead is like his mother in that way. Every time FP gets sober Jughead is so happy, so willing to believe this time will be different, then climbs through her window at night after his father comes home falling down drunk, after cleaning him up and getting rid of the mess, so his mother and little sister won’t have to, but he can’t face what he’s done and so he takes solace in Betty.

Jughead hates that he helps hide FP’s drinking, that he makes his father seem better than he is in his mother and sister’s eyes, that he still has hope his father will turn everything around, if not for him, then for Jellybean.

She watches as the boy she loves breaks off pieces of himself for his family to try and fit into their own empty spots, and then can’t stop watching as those pieces don’t fit and his parents just toss them aside, holding their hands out for more. It kills her.

Betty tries not to overthink it, his parents fight all the time, he’s always putting himself in the middle to mediate, and there is nothing she can do about it, not right now. So she lets Jellybean take her by the hand and lead her into the house. They raid Polly’s vanity and sneak into the attic to steal the colored hairspray from Halloween. Betty makes sure Jellybean has fun and doesn’t worry about her parents at all.

After all, why should she worry? Her big brother is handling it.

Hours later Betty honestly doesn’t know how Jughead does it all.

He goes to school, splits his time between her and Archie (and they make sure to spend time all together), practically parents his little sister, works around the trailer park, and still manages to be on top of whatever is going on with his parents to diffuse the situation.

After a couple hours with Jellybean, Betty is beat. Of course, it doesn’t help that she had been woken up at the crack of dawn by Polly to go jogging—Polly is now in high school and on the River Vixens, where working out is not just a suggestion. Alice is very pleased her daughters are taking an active approach to their health, but it is not Betty’s idea of fun to get up early on Saturday to do anything except make sure Jughead scales down the side of her house safely and isn’t found by her parents.

Jellybean was invited for dinner as she was already there, and not inviting her would look very bad on Alice Cooper, and Betty was once again reminded how alike the little girl and Jughead are. They have bottomless stomachs, but with Jellybean it’s somehow endearing, whereas with Jughead she finds it a little disgusting just how much he can eat, and he’ll literally eat anything.

By the end of the night parts of Jellybean’s hair are blue, her eyeshadow matches, and Betty learns all about third grade, who is who, what is cool, and that too many of Jellybean’s friends are starting to think Jughead is cute, but Betty doesn’t need to worry because she tells them her brother is very much taken.

It’s nearing the end of their second movie when headlights burst through the window and Betty turns to look. It appears to be Jughead’s mom’s van, and Betty wiggles out from underneath a sleeping Jellybean to go make sure. Jellybean wakes much like Jughead—not well—so she doesn’t want to poke the beast too soon.

When she makes it outside she finds Jughead and Gladys arguing just outside the van.

“Jughead, baby, please see this from my side—“

“No!” Jughead cuts his mother off. “I have been in the middle of the two of you my entire life. It’s always been me cleaning up after your messes, me hiding what you do from Jellybean, me pretending everything is always okay when it never is. I have been in the middle of your marriage since I was born, and this time, this time I am not going to be in the middle picking up the pieces, this one is all on you.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, I am still your mother—“

“Since when?” Jughead interrupts once again, and Betty can see the anger in his shoulders. “You blame him for everything—he’s the reason you drink, he’s the reason we moved to the trailer park, he’s the reason you dropped out of high school, you have never taken responsibility for anything that’s gone wrong, and you know it. It’s easier to blame him than it is to blame me, isn’t it?”

“Jughead, don’t, you know—“

“But I’m the real reason for all of it, Mom,” Jughead continues on, “I’m the reason you were forced to drop out of school, I’m the reason you married him, and Jellybean is the reason you stayed married to him, and now you have an out for all of it, don’t you?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, you have to know that, Jughead. Please, just listen to me,” his mother pleads while cupping his cheeks, but he shakes her off and steps back.

“It’s too late, and I don’t even care about what it means for me,” Jughead tells her. “I hope you’re happy, I hope that your soulmate gives you everything my father never could,” he says and Betty’s eyes widen. “I hope he takes care of you the way my dad never could, I hope he helps you stop drinking, I hope he makes you remember everything you wanted out of life before me and Jellybean came along. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m raised, and I did it myself because I had to be there for Jellybean. I raised her, she’s smart and she’s strong and she’s beautiful, I did that, okay? Me, I’ve known you and dad were on borrowed time since I was born, but her? She has no idea, and when this breaks her heart you will be the one to explain to her what is going on. You have to be the one to tell her that you’re leaving dad, that you got a soulmark and decided that it was more important than the family you already had, more important than her.”

By now Gladys’s eyes are watering and she is staring at her son like she already lost him. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Mom,” Jughead replies, his voice softer now. “I hate the way you handled this. I hate how you let Dad find out about him, I hate that this is going to tear my little sister apart, but I hope you get better. I hope you go back to the mom I had once, I hope you do that for Jellybean and that he helps you do that. I can forgive you for almost anything Mom, but if you go be with him and keep drinking and you let this hurt Jellybean more than it has to… I won’t be able to forgive that.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Gladys insists earnestly. “I’m—I’m already getting help, Jug, I’m in AA and Billy… he’s good for me, Jug, in a way that you father never was.”

Jughead takes another step back. “Good, I hope he is, I hope he’s everything we could never give you,” he whispers, and then turns to face Betty. “She sleeping?”

Betty simply nods and Jughead walks past her without another word to go get his sister.

“Betty,” suddenly Gladys is in front of her, her hands gripping Betty’s. “Please help him through this. Please, you’ll understand one day, one day when you get a mark and it’s not Jughead—“

“No,” Betty rips her hands away. “I love Jughead, and if we don’t get marks, if we’re not soulmates, then that right there is our mark. We won’t have them together. I would never do this to him,” she tells her and then hears Jughead coming down her porch steps.

He has Jellybean in his arms, she’s cuddled into him like a koala and she’s getting big so he’s struggling under her weight. “Door,” he mouths and Betty opens the sliding car door for him.

“Jug?” Jellybean groans sleepily.

“You’re going home, Jelly, okay?” he tells her as he buckles her in because she’s completely useless when she’s sleepy, just like he is.

“You’re not coming?” she asks.

“No, I,” he stops and looks back at Betty. “I’m sleeping over Archie’s, okay? But I’ll be home when you wake up, I promise.”

“Okay. Love you, big head,” she mutters, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Love you too, peanut butter,” he responds and closes the door as quietly as he can.

“Jughead-” Gladys starts.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find him,” he answers before she can even ask. “He’s too angry right now. I have to wait until he’ll be too drunk to fight me. I’ll be home in the morning to help you pack,” he says before turning and grabs Betty’s hand as he passes, not giving his mother another look.

He leads her to Archie’s garage that has recently been made into a gym of sorts as Archie gets more and more into sports. It’s equipped with a couch and mini fridge so Jughead jokes it’s his room. He doesn’t bother to turn on the light and just collapses on the old fold-out.

His eyes are full of pain and anger, and all Betty wants to do is hold him until it all goes away, but knows that’s impossible.

“She got a soulmate?” Betty asks tentatively, to which he nods. “How long?”

“I don’t know, a couple months? She’s been keeping it a secret, didn’t know what to do about it, was caught up in it, I don’t know, other bullshit like that. She didn’t even tell my dad, the guy came over ‘cause he hadn’t heard from my mom and was worried my dad did something. My dad is a lot of things, Betty, he’s a drunk, he can’t hold a job, he can never finish what he starts, but he would never hurt my mom, not like that.”

“I know, I know he wouldn’t,” Betty agrees. “She’s moving out?”

Jughead nods again. “He’s invited the three of us to move into his condo, it’s very exciting, his building has a pool.”

“Juggie,” Betty whispers getting on her knees next to him, her knuckles brushing down the side of his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not moving in with him,” Jughead states. “I won’t. You should have seen my dad, Betts, he looked so broken,” he says while leaning his face into her hand. “Through everything, through all his faults, and all of hers, he still loves her. He doesn’t care about marks, he said he didn’t need them, and I know he’s not perfect, but that’s always something I admired about him.”

“I’m here for you, Juggie, whatever you need,” she tells him and rests her forehead on the side of his, her nose nuzzling his hair.

“I don’t—I’m sick of talking about it honestly,” he admits and relaxes into her, his head falling back to the couch.

“Okay, we can talk about something else if you want. I’m good at talking, to you at least,” Betty says cheerfully and he looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “Too much? Alright, I can be monotone, I can be one of the guys. How do you like the new GTA?” she asks in a low, unusual voice.

Jughead’s lips almost form a smile. “Or, you can be you and we can just not talk about my parents,” he suggests.

“What, you didn’t like my Archie impersonation?”

“Not at all, so to try and change the subject again, thank you for looking after Jelly today, I know she can be a pain—“

“Shut up, Jughead Jones. I love Jellybean like a sister, she’s fun and crazy and now I know everything about that horrible girl Bridget, we hate her,” Betty continues on and stretches her legs out over Jughead’s as he chuckled. “And Charlie, short for Charlotte, has a huge crush on you so we’re not sure if we should hang out with her for a while, you know, until she gets over it. Jellybean tried telling her how stupid you are, but it didn’t work.”

“What?” Jughead actually laughs and she wants to dance at the victory.

“I say Charlie, short for Charlotte, because before I asked I thought some little boy-friend of hers thought you were cute, but alas, it’s a girl. Don’t worry, Jellybean told her you’re already smitten with another, and apparently she’s really pretty and you’re so into her that you don’t even notice other girls.”

“Is that so?”

“I know, I find it hard to believe too. A stud like you not noticing other girls? She must be something really special.”

Jughead takes both of her hands in his and kisses them gently. “She’s definitely one of a kind.”

“Mhm, Jellybean also says that she overheard you and Archie talking one time about her lips and she wants to know what that is all about.”

“I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jughead responds, his voice cracking a little.

“You don’t? Remember that one time you took Jellybean to the mall and she went to the movies, and you told her to meet you at the arcade when she was done? Well, she eavesdropped on you a little bit. She said you two were playing some racing game and Archie was talking about some girl’s boobs and you said that liking the obvious was too easy, that beauty is in the specifics, and that is when you mentioned my lips. Bean said that it was getting too weird for her around then, so that’s when she pounced on you, making you lose the game and Archie gloat all night.”

“Wha—uhm, she told you that?” he asks in a low breath. “No, wait, _she_ overheard that? Shit.”

“I think she’ll survive hearing Archie talk about some girl’s boobs. Have you seen him check out a girl? He’s not very subtle. His soulmate better show up sooner rather than later because he is becoming far too curious.”

“That’s for sure,” Jughead agrees.

“Now back to what you were saying about me. You think I’m beautiful? You like my _lips?_ ”

Jughead shifts so he’s facing her more. “Betty… you don’t-” he starts and fiddles with her fingers. “You don’t know that I think you’re beautiful?”

“Well, I, I think you do, but you’ve never said it, and I’m not saying you have to say it now,” she insists. “I’m not fishing for compliments or anything, it’s just when Jellybean said it, I don’t know, it made me feel warm and, I don’t know, nice, I guess.”

“Betty, I,” he stops and cups her cheek, “I think that you’re the most amazing person on the entire planet, but if you say that to Jellybean I’ll deny it,” he says and Betty does her best to not giggle like a school girl. “It’s not looks that matter, not really, it’s about how you… you’re always there for me, and I know I’m not easy to be there for. You don’t judge my family, you love my sister as your own, you’re the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing before I fall asleep. The thoughts are drastically different, you know, morning and night, but it’s still all about you. The fact that you’re beautiful? That’s just icing on the cake for me, you know? And if you don’t know that, then I don’t think I’m doing my part in this whole thing.”

“Jug,” Betty whispers and kisses the inside of his palm. “You’re really good with words, you know that? Like, wow, keep reading because the effects are really working for you.”

Jughead smiles. “Thanks.”

“Thank you for saying all that, it means so much to me. I told you I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but it was even better hearing it from you than through Jellybean.”

“I need to talk to her about eavesdropping, it seems.”

“Oh, don’t tell on me. Snitches get stitches, dude.”

Jughead smiles again and his hand moves down to cup her jawline and his thumb sweeps across her cheek. “Never call me dude, and you’re not allowed to hang out with her for at least another month, she’s not a good influence on you.”

“Try and stop me, Jones, I dare you,” she murmurs, her breath catching in the back of her throat. She can feel him leaning in and despite her better judgement her eyes flutter closed, and suddenly he’s kissing her like he never would before.

This isn’t just a peck or something innocent, and while it’s little uncoordinated because neither of them have done it before, it’s still wonderful. Betty grips onto his shirt to keep him close as he leads their lips, going slow and tentative to see what works and what doesn’t feel right.

Betty wants to enjoy it, and she does, but—

“Jug,” she pulls away and makes a point to put her hands on his chest to keep him at a distance.

“What?” he asks, his eyes glassy and chest heaving.

“I—you have no idea how much I want this, how much I’ve wanted to do this, but,” she leans back to get even more space between them. “Not like this, not as a distraction because of—” she stops and immediately feels awful when his face drops. “I don’t want the first time we kiss, and I mean really kiss, to be to keep our minds of something else. I want it to be the main event, you know?”

“Right,” Jughead sighs and stands, reaching for his forgotten hat and fixes his shirt.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean—we can stay here for a while. My mom won’t be looking for me yet.”

“No, it’s okay, I should be looking for my dad anyways, and I have to walk to the Southside so,” he makes his way to the door, but Betty stays sitting. “You coming?”

“I just ruined it, didn’t I?”

“Betty,” Jughead starts and lets out a long breath. “No, you’re right, I don’t want it to be like that either. I want us to do it the right way.”

“When we have marks, you mean,” Betty corrects him. “It’s because of the marks you won’t call us going out dating, or me your girlfriend, or even kiss me like this.”

“Hey, I was just fine with what we were doing, you stopped it, not me,” he reminds her.

“And you just agreed that it was the right thing to do! Unless you were lying to me,” she challenges and stands herself with arms crossed over her chest.

He scrubs his hands down his face. “Betty, do we really have to get into this right now? And tonight, of all nights, after what I went through today?”

“No, you’re right, we should just ignore it until I finally get my period and let that decide for us. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she questions.

“Betty, not now, not today, please,” he pleads quietly.

She softens and hates herself because he’s right, she shouldn’t do this tonight. It just feels so good to finally say what she’s been feeling that it got ahead of her. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

Jughead simply nods and plays with the door handle to the garage. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” he volunteers. “It’s a bit out of my way, but I think I can manage.”

Betty rolls her eyes at him and takes his hand as he offers it, her free arm wrapping around his that is encased in her hand. “I hate that you have to do this, you know.”

“Walk you home? I know, it’s a tough neighborhood,” he agrees and she pushes on his shoulder.

“Don’t joke, Jug, this is serious,” she tells him. “Just sleep over Archie’s house tonight, you know he wouldn’t say no. You shouldn’t have to go searching bars for your dad or take care of him like this. You’re only fourteen.”

“Don’t worry, by the time I find him he won’t put up much of a fight. It’ll be easy to get him home and passed out on the couch. I’ve done it a million times before.”

They stop in front of her door and Betty shakes her head. “I hate this, I hate how you just think this is normal. It kills me,” she whispers.

“Betty, this is my life, this is my normal, this is just how it is,” he tells her and leans in to kiss her cheek. “I hate that it hurts you, but it doesn’t affect me anymore, so it’d be easier if you just accept it too.”

Betty looks him in the eye. “Never. You deserve better.”

“Too bad, this is what I got. Don’t count on much from me tomorrow. With Mom and Jellybean moving out my dad’s going to be out of his mind and I have to help it happen as painless as possible,” he says and chuckles at that. “Funny choice of words, huh? I’ll call when it at settles, if it does.”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay? Help packing or unpacking or to just get out of there, even if you just want me to sit next to you and not say anything at all,” she orders.

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m a pro at this by now,” he reminds her and she huffs. “I know, you hate it, you tell me all the time, but it’s true.”

“If you want me to stop nagging you about it, it’s not going to happen, not until you see how much more you’re worth and how much better you deserve.”

“We can stand here and fight about this all night, we both know that, but I do have to go. The sooner I get him home and to bed, the sooner I can go to sleep and get tomorrow’s shit show over with.”

“If you need someone to take Jellybean—“

“I know, Betty, you’re my go-to for almost everything, don’t worry. I know you’re here for me, I know you’ll do anything I ask, I know, okay?”

“Okay, be safe,” she whispers and kisses his cheek. He begins to let her hand go and walk away, but Betty holds her grip. “Jug, I,” she says in a breath and blinks up at him. “I know this isn’t the right time, and maybe I’m saying it more for me than for you which isn’t fair, I know, but—“

“What, Betty?” he interrupts in an attempt to get her to stop rambling.

“I love you, Juggie, like I’m in lo—“

“I know what you mean,” he cuts in once again and visibly gulps. “Betty, you know how I feel about you—“

“I know you can’t say it,” Betty assures him and plasters a fake smile on her face, the Cooper way. “It’s okay, I just needed you to know because tomorrow is going to be hard for you and—I want you to know I do love you and no matter what happens you’ll have me, you always will.”

Jughead’s face is a jumble of emotions she knows he’s trying to decipher within himself. “I… have to go now, but, um, thank you,” he murmurs, giving her hand a squeeze before dropping it and shuffling down the front steps.

She waits until he’s around the corner to go into her house feeling a heaviness in her gut that she knows won’t go away, not until they have marks, not until Jughead can feel confident enough to call her his. She never thought about her and Jug never getting marks, it hadn’t crossed her mind really, but with his mom being marked with someone else… the statistics of an unnatural child having a soulmate are low, but an unnatural child with a parent who later marked? It was even lower.

Betty has always taken solace in knowing Jughead’s parents believed in them, that one day they would get soulmarks, but Gladys obviously doesn’t, probably never has. And if his parents don’t believe her, and her parents don’t believe her, and if more things keep going wrong in Jughead’s life to pull him even farther away from her… She shakes the thoughts out of her head.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third is hers, she doesn’t care what the universe does to separate them. To her, somehow, they are already one.

…

“You should just call him.”

Betty glares at the back of Archie’s head. “Yes, because I hadn’t thought of that, oh wise one. Any more obvious things you want to point out? The sky is blue—”

“You’re mean without Jug around,” Archie mumbles, his fingers violently smashing buttons on his controller.

“I’m sorry, I’m not—I’m just so frustrated,” Betty groans, collapsing on his couch dramatically. “I haven’t really spoken to him in three days, and texts do not count as actual communication. What did he sound like when you talked to him, Arch?”

“Uh,” Archie begins, but is distracted by his video game.

“Archibald Andrews, I will unplug that freakin’ machine—”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Archie pauses the game and turns to look at her. “He sounded rushed, I guess. He’s dealing with the fallout from his mom, Betty, and making sure Jellybean is okay, it’s kind of a lot, even for him, you know?”

“Yes, it is, I agree!” she exclaims and he leans away in surprise at the enthusiasm of her response. “It’s a lot, and I can help him, I could take some of it off his plate, I’m great at helping!”

“Betty, take it down a notch, you’re about to attract dogs.”

“You don’t understand, Archie, the other night I,” she stops and lets out a long breath. “I did something so stupid.”

“What’d you do?”

“Pushed him away, which is hard to do when he’s already practically sprinting in the other direction, but I am just _that_ good,” Betty sighs.

“Betty, you know how Jug feels about you,” Archie assures her. “He’s just, he’s Jug, you know? He’s not used to nice things, or things working out, and you’re the nicest thing in his life. To him, it doesn’t make sense that he gets you, you know what I mean?”

“Do you guys talk about this? About me?” Betty demands, sitting up and leaning in his personal space.

“I try to keep out of your guys’ couple drama because I want to be Switzerland,” Archie tells her. “I’m the best friend and what you say stays between us, and what he says stays between me and him. You gotta respect that, Betty.”

“I do, Arch, you’re a wonderful human, but Jug is hurting right now and we both know I can help him, so if you tell me what you know—”

“Jug’s been hurting, Betty, come on. He’s white-knuckling as we get older and you’re getting closer to, well, you know,” he hints at her period and she shakes her head at him. Boys, they get so grossed out about the menstrual cycle. “Betty… Jug, he’s, how do I say this,” he clears his throat and sit back on his hands to think. “Now, he hasn’t said this to me in so many words, but it feels like he’s waiting for you to take it all back. Every day he wakes up waiting for you to break his heart. I’m not just talking about marks, I’m talking about who he is, and how he’s so different from you.”

“What? Jug’s the most thoughtful, sweetest, genuine—”

“I know you think that, and I’ll try to not be offended because I do think I’m genuine—”

“Archie,” Betty warns, her patience is wearing thin.

“I know, I know. You see Jughead how he is, I see Jughead for who he is, but Jughead, it’s like he’s looking in a funhouse mirror and all the bad parts are enlarged and the good parts are so small. He’s waiting for you to see him the same way and just walk away, maybe not even wait for the moment to get the mark, you could do this tomorrow to him, in his mind. When you walk away from him, he’ll never be the same, so he’s trying to, like, soften the blow, maybe. Again, he hasn’t said any of this to me in these words, it’s just how I see it from his snide remarks and comments, so his general personality, I guess.”

Betty opens her mouth and then closes it again. “What?” she questions and almost wants to laugh. “What?” she repeats, speechless. “Have you—have you told him how wrong that is? That, that, I mean, it’s so—I need to find him.”

Betty stands, but Archie holds his hands up from the floor. “Betty, calm down. You bullrushing him right now with all these emotions is just going to cause a fight, besides we don’t know where he is right now. Just because I’ve talked to him doesn’t mean he’s been open and honest. Wait until tonight when you know he’ll be by the trailer, when his dad—”

“Will be drunk and need taken care of,” Betty finishes and sits on the couch again. “When did you get so wise, Arch?”

“Well, while you and Jug have been mooning over each other I have been watching and learning how to handle getting my own soulmate. You guys are helping me out a lot with all the trial and error,” he admits.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Betty says sarcastically.

“Yep, so wanna watch a movie? With Jug not here it could be in color, not have subtitles, and it can even star Seth Rogen,” Archie suggests with a wide smile.

“You make some excellent points, and who knows when a moment like this will happen again,” she agrees. “But no Seth Rogen please.”

“Fine,” Archie says in a huff and in minutes they have a movie chosen, something that never happens with Jug around because they usually spend twenty minutes fighting first, and both were settled on the couch. “So, how are you going to get your mom to let you go to Jug’s so late at night?”

“I’m going to tell her I’m sleeping over someone’s house,” Betty answers easily. “Probably Ethel’s, she likes Ethel, and Ethel will cover for me if something happens. I’ll buy her a pie from Pop’s to thank her.”

“A whole pie? I help you out all the time and I don’t get anything.”

“You’re stuck with me for life, Ethel I still have to bribe to stick around,” Betty says with a sideways glance and smirk before suppressing a yawn.

“Haven’t been sleeping?” Archie asks while hitting play on the DVD remote.

“Not at all, really, no,” Betty answers honestly, because why lie? “But my room has now been feng shui’ed, is more organized than ever, I’ve sorted my closet into categories of ‘my mom made me buy this’, ‘my mom doesn’t know I own this’, and ‘my mom and I agree on this’, well I guess four categories because I also have a garbage bag clothes that just don’t fit anymore, same with shoes.”

“You have shoes your mom doesn’t know you own?”

“High heels, yes, given to me in secrecy by Polly. My mom doesn’t think high heels, the kind Polly gave me anyways, are appropriate, She’s more of a sensible shoes woman, my mother.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what that means,” Archie says, his arm splayed over the back of the couch.

“Oh, and I’ve already read four books on the AP English summer reading list,” Betty informs him.

“God, you need sleep, it’s just sad. Want me to make popcorn?” Archie asks while standing.

“Sure, light on the butter please!” she calls after him and shuffles to rest her head on the armrest, and that’s the last thing she remembers before Archie’s front door bangs open, it’s dark out, and the TV screen is blank.

“Arch!” she hears someone calling.

It takes a moment to realize it’s Jughead in her sleepy haze, and she struggles to get up. It is then she realizes she’s locked in a hold by Archie, his body behind hers, his arms around her like how he sleeps with his dog Vegas.

“Archie!” Jughead yells again, coming into the living room and flicking on the light.

Betty’s eyes squint at the harsh change. “Jug,” she groans, struggling under Archie’s weight—he literally will not let go.

Jughead just stares at them, his eyes blinking repeatedly, like he can’t believe what he is seeing.

“Archie!” Betty grunts, now fighting his grip and it begins to lessen as the red-head wakes up. When Betty looks back up Jughead is gone and the front door is slamming shut. “Jughead!” she calls after him, stumbling over her feet. “Juggie, wait!” she yells, following him down the sidewalk as he practically sprints. “Jug, I can run faster than you, stop!” she orders, cutting him off and they knock into each other.

“Let me go, Betty,” he says in a deep voice, his hands on hers as she anchors herself on his flannel.

“No! I was going to come find you tonight.”

“Yeah, you looked real interested in me tonight,” he bites back.

“What? Archie and I were watching a movie and fell asleep, that’s all. He was helping me not freak out about not hearing from you in a couple days.”

“Yeah, sure. Let go,” he says, tugging on her hands again, but she doesn’t listen. “Betty.”

“No, why are you getting so upset? Because of me and Archie? Are you serious? It’s—he’s _Archie_ ,” she says like it explains everything.

“Don’t be naïve, Betty, it doesn’t suit you,” he remarks and she doesn’t like the dark look in his eyes. The eyebags indicate he hasn’t been sleeping either, he looks exhausted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You just said it the other day, Archie is getting curious and he’s not subtle about girls,” he reminds her.

“What? Me and Archie? He’s like my brother. Are you seriously telling me after all this time you’re jealous of Archie? Our best friend, Archie?”

“No, _my_ best friend Archie, your neighbor who gets to look into your bedroom window every night and is a stone’s throw when you need him. You guys even have a freakin’ system to wake the other up in the middle of the night if something happens!”

“From when we were five and you helped design it! That was never for Archie, I only used it when you were sleeping over. Are you really making a big deal about this? Archie doesn’t think of me that way, and I definitely have never even considered the possibility—”

“Betty,” Jughead cuts her off and forcibly takes her hands from his button up. “I literally cannot handle this right now, I came to Archie’s to get Archie, not you.”

Betty nods and steps back. “Wow, okay, that’s… nice.”

“Don’t do that, do you have any idea how shitty this past week has been for me?”

“Maybe I’d have a better idea if you actually talked to me, or you know, wanted to hang out with me other than when you feel the world is falling apart all around you. I can’t just be a safety blanket for you Jug, there are two people in this relationship.”

“Really? ‘Cause five minutes ago I couldn’t tell which two people were in one,” he comments and is already walking away. “I have somewhere to be, don’t follow,” he says over his shoulder and is around the corner as she stands glued to the sidewalk.

When she turns Archie is standing at the end of his driveway, just waiting. “Where’d he go? Is everything okay?”

“No, Archie, it isn’t,” Betty tells him and brushes by to go to her house.

“Betty,” Archie grabs her wrist. “Let me help, we should go find him together.”

“Trust me, Arch, the last thing he needs is the two of us looking for him together,” she insists and is already going up her front steps to lie to her mom, pack a bag, and head for the trailer park.

Hours later Betty has no idea what time it is because her phone died, she hopes her mom hasn’t called to check in on her, but also doesn’t really care, and is considering making a sleeping bag out of her clothes to sleep on, but doesn’t think it’s a good idea because if FP comes home first he’s likely to trample her.

She knows she actually dozed off when she jerks awake to the sound of hoots and hollers. Jughead is standing in front of her, two boys on either side of him. She thinks she recognizes them, maybe from school or just the trailer park, but she doesn’t care. What she cares about is the brown bottles hanging from their hands.

“Can I get one of these delivered to my front door?” a boy asks as he steps towards her, but Jughead catches his collar with his fist and tugs him back. “Fuck, Jones, what’s your problem?”

“What are you doing here, Betty?” he questions, ignoring the blond guy, then takes a swig.

“Are you drinking?” she demands while stepping closer to him. “What the hell, Jughead?”

“Yeah, J, what the hell, we should be sharing. You want some, babe?” the blond speaks up again.

“Shut the hell up, Dez,” Jughead orders, his tone dark and firm, his eyes practically black. “You guys should go,” he says a moment later with eyes soley on Betty.

“Killjoy,” Dez, apparently, muttered and kicked a rock. “You think Toni’s up, Joaquin?” he asked as they walked away.

“Dream on, bro,” she heard the other guy, Joaquin, say as they went.

“What’re you doing, Jug? Drinking? This isn’t you,” Betty tells him once the two boys are out of sight.

“And who am I, Betty, huh?” he asks with the bottle to his lips.

“Well, you’re usually not this much of a dick, for starters,” Betty offers and crosses her arms as Jughead just laughs. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours and you were off drinking with those guys? Where’s your dad? I was starting to think you slept over your mom’s.”

“My mom’s,” Jughead chuckles while leaning against the side of the trailer and takes a long drink. “My mom’s, that’s funny,” he goes on and laughs. “To think, a boy from the trailer park has two homes, yet neither of them really want him.”

“Jug, don’t, don’t do that. I know you’re going through a hard time right now—”

“Right now? I’ve been going through a hard time since I was eight, Betty, open your eyes,” he cuts her off.

“Open my eyes? What, you think I’ve been walking around with blinders on since we met?”

“Give the girl a medal, she’s finally got it!” Jughead yells into the abyss of the trailer park.

“Jug, why are you being like this?” Betty asks almost in a whisper.

“Because this is who I am, Betty,” Jughead states as he comes closer. “Doesn’t it ever occur to you just how different we are? Like on a cellular DNA kind of level? You’re a straight-A student, your sister is already training you to be a cheerleader when we get to high school, I mean you’re the perfect girl next door.”

“I hate that word.”

“I’m the damaged loner outsider from the wrong side of the tracks,” he goes on, ignoring her.

“You know I have never thought of you that way,” Betty insists.

“Betty, come on,” Jug urges. “Who are we kidding? We’re on borrowed time.”

Betty feels her eyes water. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t just decide at four years old that someone is your soulmate!”

“I didn’t decide anything!” she exclaims. “I felt it, and you said you did too, unless you’ve been lying for nine years!”

“I was five, Betty, hoping to get a pretty girl to stop crying, I paid attention to you in a way no one else did, a way Archie didn’t and is finally starting to. Wake up, we aren’t those kids anymore,” he tells her.

Betty nods, blinking tears away. “Right, so all this time I’ve just been using you. For nine years I’ve been so very vocal about how I feel just to make a fool out of myself when we don’t mark together.”

“Might as well have,” Jug agrees and lifts the bottle up in a cheers motion. Before he can put it to his lips she reaches out and smacks it out of his hands. “What the fuck, Betty?”

“You open your damn eyes, Jughead Jones,” Betty orders, her tone firm even though her lip is quivering and she can taste the salt of her tears. “I am doing everything I can to keep you whole, to keep us together, and all you’re doing is running in the other fucking direction. You want me to think all you needed was some liquid courage to tell me that our entire life together has been a lie? I don’t buy it, you hear me?” she states and steps right up to him. “I know it seems everyone in your life lets you down or walks away but I am here, I am standing right here and I’m telling you I am not going anywhere. I love you, I know that scares you, but I don’t care, you just have to get used to it.”

“Right, until you mark with Archie, then what? You’ll still be right here, only with him right beside you? No thanks,” he mutters, unable to meet her eye.

“Why is everything about Archie now? I don’t feel that way about him, I have never seen him that way. The only person I have ever even thought about was you, you’re all I see, why can’t you see that?”

“Because you don’t see what I see, Betty,” Jughead bites back. “You’re the perfect girl next door and he’s the All-American boy every girl dreams about. Don’t you see just how much more sense you two make? Guys like me don’t get girls like you. I’m an unnatural child, Betty, with a mother that marked later, you think I don’t look up the statistics just like you? My chance of marking dropped in half from the less than fifty-percent it already was. We can’t hold onto some childhood fantasy anymore. You’re going to mark, Betty, there is no doubt about it, but me? I’m going to become just like my father, in love with a girl who marked with someone else, and chasing the liquor bottle. It’s about damn time we accepted that. You think I’m waiting for you to walk away? You’re already halfway gone, Betty, and I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“You might think that because you’re pushing me away. I’m not willingly putting the distance between us, that’s all on you Jug, and you know it,” Betty reminds him.

“It’s called self-preservation. You think this is fun for me? What, you think I’m going to stick around when it turns out I’m right and nothing happens when we touch after you get your period? You think I can just watch when you end up with Archie or someone just like him? No, as soon as you touch me and nothing happens I’m gone because I won’t be able to just stand on the sidelines, it will literally kill me.”

“Didn’t you feel anything when we first touched, Jug? Don’t you remember how it felt? I know we were just kids, but God, don’t you still something when you hold my hand or kiss my cheek? Because I do. I feel it every damn time. We’re soulmates, we are, don’t shake your head at me,” Betty demands and takes his face in her hands. “And if we aren’t then we won’t have marks together. I don’t need a mark, Jug, and for all the trouble they’ve caused I wish they didn’t even exist. I wish we could just pick whoever we wanted and be happy, because if we could then I would choose you, I’d choose you every time.”

Jug removes her hands from his face. “My mom was in love with my dad just a couple months ago, Betty, then she touched Billy and it was like he never even fucking mattered. It didn’t matter she already had two kids, it didn’t matter that she was the only thing keeping my dad even remotely together, she forgot about it all the moment that mark formed on her back.”

“I’m not your mother!” Betty practically screams and pushes on his chest. “I’m not her, I’m stronger than her, and I don’t need a mark to tell me who I should be with. I know it right in here,” Betty insists, putting her hand over his heart. “I love you, Jug, please, just stop all this and accept it. You’ll see when I finally get my period, then all of this will be for nothing,” she says in a whisper as tears pour down her face.

“I can’t do it like them, Betts,” Jughead murmurs, once again making it so they weren’t touching. “I can’t—” he chokes and turns away, resting his hands on the trailer as he breathes heavily.

Betty sniffles and then jumps when he punches the trailer repeatedly. “Jug, Jug, stop!” she pleads, grabbing a hold of his arm. “You’ll wake your dad up, or, I don’t know, dent your house!”

“My dad’s in jail, Betty,” Jughead tells her, using his bloody hand to wipe his nose and laughs. “Drunk and disorderly. Billy called the cops on him when he showed up at the condo to try and get Jellybean to bring her home, said this shithole is where she belonged.”

“Jug,” Betty breathes and steps towards him and he steps back, stumbling into the trailer and just slides down until he’s sitting. “Jug, please—”

“I’m going to lose you, Betty,” he says softly and looks up into her eyes, the little boy she met shining though his iris’. “I’m going to lose you before I even get to have you. Don’t you understand how that’s killing me?” he asks and breaks off into a sob.

“Juggie,” Betty drops to her knees and takes him in her arms. For the first time tonight he doesn’t fight her and lets himself fall apart in her arms. She pushes his beanie off and cards her fingers through his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down and his eyes look glassy while his eyelids keep trying to close. The alcohol is setting in, she thinks.

“I don’t know which is worse,” he mumbles, his head falling back onto the side of the trailer with a thump. “Losing you before because I’m pushing so hard, or just saying fuck it and losing you after. Should I get to know what I’m missing or let what could be haunt me?”

“Juggie,” she repeats and bites her lip to stop herself from crying herself. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed,” she urges, standing and tugging on his hand to get him standing.

He follows her lead and doesn’t fight, he doesn’t even say another word until he’s in bed after kicking his jeans off. “Fuck, I’m already him,” he groans while digging his palms into his eyes.

“You’re not your father, Jug,” Betty assures him, getting him under the blankets and holding a glass of water up to him. “Drink some of this for me.”

He attempts to sit up and gulps down half before falling back down. “Really? ‘Cause I’m sure I did this same thing with him last night, only I was on the other side of it.”

“Sh, close your eyes, Juggie,” she whispers, brushing hair out of his eyes and he leans into her hand. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”

“I want you to stay forever,” he whispers as his eyes are already fighting to stay open. “You know, I thought,” he starts and peeks one eye open. “I thought that if I did everything right, if I did everything for everyone else, spread myself so thin I had nothing left, that maybe the universe would owe me,” he stops and shifts so he’s on his side facing her, his body curled around her's sitting on the edge. “I thought maybe finally I’d get something for myself, that I’d get you,” he goes on once her hand is moving through his hair again. “But I guess I did too good of a job making my mom look good because the universe thought it’d been her all along.”

“Sleep, Jug,” she says again and leans down to kiss his temple.

“You ruined me, Betty Cooper,” he mumbles, both eyes closed and his breaths evening out. “And I can’t even be mad about it,” he goes on and smiles to himself, or maybe her, she doesn’t know. “‘Cause what a way to go.”

She stays for a long time just to watch him sleep, her fingers massaging his scalp as he dreams, hoping that his mind isn’t wreaking havoc on him when he’s unconscious like it does when he’s awake.

Many people have told her she’s wrong about her and Jug, more people have laughed at her than believed her, but none of those people were Jug himself. He’s never put into words that he didn’t believe her, that he didn’t believe they were soulmates. Sure, she knows it was in the back of his mind that it nags him, that it’s been getting louder the older they get, but she didn’t think it was consuming him the way it is.

What if she’s wrong? What if she just built up a cute little boy helping her out of the mud when she was four so much in her head that she doesn’t know what’s truth or fiction anymore? She thinks she remembers that moment perfectly, how he felt, what he smelled like. She still has the paper crown in her hope chest and can recall the exact moment it hit her: this boy is her soulmate.

But the other option is that he’s not. Did she just have a crush and romanticize her parent’s marks and love so much that in her four-year-old brain a crush and a soulmate were one in the same?

Betty has never doubted herself before. She has never truly thought she was wrong, never realized just how broken she could leave Jughead Jones if she’s been mistaken.

Slowly she extracts herself from the sleeping boy and leaves the trailer, grabbing her bag and one of his zip-up hoodies on her way out. Betty doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t have a plan, she just walks and then begins running, not stopping when she enters Eversgreen Forest. She doesn’t care when branches slapped her in the neck and face, ignores when her lungs burn so much it’s hard to breathe.

She only comes to a halt when she trips and tumbles to the ground and can’t force herself up. Her legs are jelly and she sobs when she realizes she’s in a mud puddle, just like the one Jughead found her in.

Betty Cooper knows what being in love feels like, and now, at thirteen years old, she knows what a broken heart feels like too, only it’s not her own heart she’s worried about, it’s Jughead’s.

She holds all the cards in her hands, it’s all up to her. With her touch they will mark or not, their hearts will break or swell.

She looks down at her hands and squeezes them closed in anger—she wonders if she's fortunate to find love so young, or if feeling it all slip away just makes her unlucky for having it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Kudos and comment please! I love, love, love feedback! 
> 
> (sorry, not sorry, for all the angst)


	3. You Are The Blood In My Veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning, I made my beta @jandjsalmon cry a bit with this chapter. Sorry (not sorry) about that. 
> 
> Sorry this took so long. My boss is on vaca, now that I am home from my own, so I'm in charge right now and it's mentally exhausting to work with idiots, I'm afraid. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!!! 
> 
> As always, questions that can be answered will be done so in the reviews, or come rant at me on my tumblr www.anactualcaseofthetruth.tumblr.com

     “It is rare, but it has been reported that there are people who believe they know who their soulmate is before they are old enough to receive soulmarks. The same ritual must be followed with the female initiating an intimate touch to the male for the connection to be made… However, these reports are almost impossible to prove, seeing as all it takes is the mark to form for the couple to say they had known all along.

There are many, many more cases in which two people have insisted they were soulmates only to not mark with one another. All in all, only about 3% of couplings are correct in predicting they are soulmates before marks form.”

From _The Annual Study and Comprehension of Couplings,_ 2012

*

Betty has never truly been grounded before, but as she’s learning lately, there is a first time for everything.

Coming home in the early morning covered in dirt and scrapes with a broken phone is not something Alice Cooper can ignore, no matter what inner turmoil her daughter is going through. So Betty finds herself grounded for the first time ever, which sucks, but she’s also liking the no contact with the outside world idea.

She’s not allowed to see anyone, not allowed on her laptop or to get a new phone until her punishment is lifted, and her dad asked Fred to keep his ladder chained up so the boys couldn’t attempt to make contact. Evidently, her parents were more aware of Jughead’s comings and goings than she gave them credit for, and she’s not sure if she’s pleased they let him sneak in so often before, or if she’s mad that he can’t sneak in now.

The first few days were solitary, filled with chores—another punishment—merely for breaking her phone.

“You’re very lucky it was still under warranty and we covered both you and Polly with insurance, Elizabeth, or else your consequences would have been much worse,” her mother had said while handing her a list of things she wanted clean and organized over the next few days.

The list included the attic, basement, garage, all three bathrooms, an order to scrub every hardwood or linoleum floor, and to wipe down the fridge top to bottom.

At the time Betty wondered what her punishment would have been had her phone not been covered by insurance if this wasn’t a lot… but she took it in stride and finished the cleaning during the first three days of her grounding so she could just be lazy for the rest of the duration.

It sounded like a good idea at the time, but on day two of doing nothing Betty finds herself losing her mind just a little. She silently thanks her mother for keeping her so busy as a child because, apparently, she isn’t cut out for this sitting around stuff. Sure, doing nothing with someone else was fun, but on her own? Not so much.

Then, because fate works in mysterious ways, just as Betty is about to succumb to the utter boredom and resort to a nap, Polly bursts into the house like a gale force wind, tears streaming down her face, unable to get a word out between sobs.

In short, Betty learns that Polly thought she found her soulmate, spent time getting to know him, being very careful about touching him, and when she finally got the guts to initiate it nothing happened.

Her big sister was completely heartbroken over Jason Blossom and their parents were furious at her for even thinking ‘that Blossom boy’ could be her soulmate, and angry that she kept it from them. Betty found herself in the middle of a warzone being pulled in both directions.

“Did you know about this, Elizabeth? Your sister’s ridiculous crush?”

“Can you believe them, Betty? My heart is broken and all they care about is the Cooper name!”

Suddenly Betty has a newfound appreciation for Archie—all of this tugging was giving her a headache, but she has to admit, spending time with Polly is nice despite them now both being grounded.

“I’m sorry I ever teased you about Jughead, Betty,” Polly whispers as Betty brushes her hair out at the vanity in her big sister’s room.

Betty forces a smile in the mirror but even she can tell it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay, Polly, we were kids, you haven’t done it in a long time. So, do you want a French braid, I think I can do a fishtail? Maybe—”

“Betty,” Polly turns and takes her hand. “I mean it, I’m sorry, I thought you were so silly for believing it, for continuing to believe it as you got older. You’ve taken a lot over the years with people doubting you, I’m sorry I was one of them.”

Betty nods. “It’s okay, Polls, you didn’t mean anything by it. I was just a little kid, I told myself you were just jealous and—”

“I was,” Polly interrupts. “I still am. What you and Jughead have, I want it, I wanted it with Jason. He did too, you should have seen his face, Betty, when nothing happened. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not. We should be able to be with whoever we want,” Betty agrees and clears her throat. “Everyone who has a mark says it’s this big gift, but what if you’re in love with someone who probably won’t get a mark? Or what if the person you mark with still isn’t good for you? Just because you have a mark doesn’t mean you should be together, right?”

“Betty,” Polly chides, looking her up and down. “What’s gotten into you? Are you worried about Jughead? Did something happen?”

“That’s just it, nothing’s happened,” Betty informs her. “I haven’t gotten my period yet, we haven’t marked, his parents aren’t helping the matter, and—” she stops and takes a breath. “It’s just a lot, all at once, and it’s hard.”

“Oh, Betty, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry, you and Jughead, you’re special, I know it,” Polly assures her with a hug and then turns back in the chair. “Let’s do French braids, okay?”  

“Okay, just let me go to the bathroom first,” Betty says and goes into her and Polly’s shared bathroom. She immediately turns on the hot water and puts her shaking palms under the spray, wincing at the burn.

The crescent moon scabs are an angry yellow and deep. She didn’t even know she was doing it in the woods until she saw the red rivers running down her knuckles, and now, when stress hits, she isn’t able to stop.

It is a release, something she can control, a pain she creates and manipulates herself. She remembers getting home and receiving her punishment, then going to the bathroom to clean herself up to find her fingers were curled in on themselves and that the pain she was causing herself somehow prevented her from fully breaking down. When her fingernails slice through her palms it curbs the need to fight back against everything.

In controlling her own pain, she simply took her mother’s punishment in stride and nodded as she was told how many rules she broke, how many things she had done wrong. She does it at night when she thinks of Jughead and how she has been breaking his heart, and it’s stopped her from completely falling apart. She does it to punish herself for pulling Jughead into all of this at five years old because she swore she felt something so special. She does it for him, because he doesn’t deserve anything that is happening to him, and the world is too cruel, especially to him.

And now, she does it for Polly because she knows her sister is hurting, and there is nothing she can do to stop it, or help her with, and she should be able to do more.

Finally, Betty turns off the water and pulls out the first-aid materials she’s been using for days now to hide her habit: Neosporin, gauze, and wraps. She told her parents it was from falling in the woods, she scraped her palms bad, but she was fine, it was just a few scratches. They accepted her explanation with no qualms.

She isn’t wearing bandages all the time, but she couldn’t very well get blood in her sister’s hair, now could she?

Later, Betty finds herself falling into bed after spending hours with Polly doing each other’s hair, doing and redoing pedicures until they were just right, and playing around with make-up and risqué things in her sister’s closet their mother doesn’t, and can never, know about.

It was fun—she hadn’t realized that she has been so wrapped up in Jughead and their drama that she’s been having tunnel vision. Betty still sees her sister every day, of course. They eat dinner together and did their homework together during the school year, even go running together in the mornings, but it’s different when they are on their own left to their own devices.

Betty lets her hair out of the multiple braids Polly put it up in and shakes out her now incredibly wavy tresses before taking off the gauze on her palms and applying more Neosporin from the tube she now keeps in her bedside table for easy access.

She’s in short-shorts and an old t-shirt of Jughead’s from more than a year ago. It’s getting too small for her, but it’s so soft and she loves the thought of wearing something that was once his, that his body was inside too. It brings her comfort, like he’s wrapped around her, and even with everything going on between them that feeling holds.

Betty sighs and reaches for her diary once the gooey cream has mostly dried on her palms, but before she can read over her last entry—about Jughead, of course—there is a rapping on her window. It’s so soft she wonders if she imagined it, but it continues again after a moment in a funny pattern.

After making sure her door is shut and locked, Betty opens the curtains to find nothing on the other side of the glass. With scrunched eyebrows she opens the window and just as she goes to look out a hand reaches for hers, making her let out a quick yelp.

“Shhh, sorry, it’s me,” Jughead whispers, his other hand over her mouth.

When he lets go she lightly punches him in the shoulder. “Dammit, Jughead! Don’t do that!”

“I’m sorry,” he instantly apologizes and she notes his plaid pajama pants and old t-shirt as well. He’s either sleeping over Archie’s or he snuck out of his house to come see her, but is it sneaking if his dad isn’t home or cares where he goes?

She wants to curl her fingers into her scabs and feel that release, a pain she can control because Jughead is in so much he can’t, but she stops herself. She can’t, not with him here.

“I had to make sure you weren’t your mom, I’ve been waiting out here for almost an hour,” he tells her.

“Well, you probably would have scared the hell out of her too! How did you know it was me?”

“I know your hands,” he answers simply with a shrug while fixing his beanie.

“That’s weird, but I could probably say the same so I’ll leave it alone,” Betty says more to herself than to him and he smirks a little. “How did you get up here? My dad asked Fred to chain up his ladder,” she says and moves aside so he can climb in through the window.

“Yeah, I heard the riot act from him all about it,” Jughead confirms while closing the window behind him. “And it’s a complicated scenario involving me standing on Archie’s shoulders as he stands on your porch and then climbing around the overhanging to get to your window. I’m supposed to text Archie when I’m coming back so if I break my neck at least I have a witness since I’ll have to jump.”

“You didn’t—you shouldn’t have risked getting in trouble for me, Jug,” she says with her arms wrapped around herself and shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

Jughead had finally, _finally_ , been so honest with her the last time they saw each other and even though she loves him, she doesn’t know what to say to him anymore, doesn’t know how to make him feel better. It’s just words, and she’s learning they don’t mean anything, not when it comes to this. Her promises and declarations don’t hold the weight they once did.

“I know, I should be respecting your parent’s wishes, and Fred’s, I guess, but you weren’t returning my calls or messages, so—”

“My phone broke,” she interrupts. “I—I was running home and tripped and my phone took the brunt of it. Coming home from a fake sleepover combined with that got me put in Cooper jail.”

“I figured your parents took your phone since I knew you were in trouble after Fred asked me to stop stealing his ladder,” he responds and takes a step towards her, and she makes a conscious effort to not step backwards.  “Betty, I’m so sorry—”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Juggie, don’t worry,” she whispers and stretches her fingers to stop herself from making a fist.

“No, I do,” he insists and takes another step, however this time Betty can’t help but move away. “Betty…” he trails off and his voice cracks.

“I’m sorry, Jug, I—it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asks like he’s trying to laugh, but looks like he’s about to cry.

“No, no,” she assures him. “But we’re not… we’re not even together, Jug.”

“Betty… I’ve been going through a lot and you’ve been there for me every day, and I know I don’t make that easy on either of us. I never want you to think you’re anything less than the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s hazy, but I remember what I said, and I’m so fucking happy it was me that found you in that puddle, Betty.”

“I’m happy it was you too, Jug,” she agrees while blinking away tears. “But that night, it might have taken you drinking to finally say those things, but you do feel them. It just made me realize that all I’ve been doing, especially recently, is hurting you and I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Betty, you’re not,” he stops and she sees he’s making fists of his own. She wonders if he needs something to feel control over too, because his life is much more chaotic than hers. “I’m sorry that I never—I never bothered to notice the effect all of this has on you. My doubts are hard on you. I just—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupts. “I’m the one that announced we were soulmates when I was four—”

“And I’m thankful for it every day,” he tells her. “I want it to be true, I want it more than I want almost anything. It just feels like the powers that be are pulling us apart no matter how hard we hold on. My life… my life is a mess, Betty, and you keep trying to jump in and save it, and all I can see is you getting so caught up in it that one day you hope you never had anything to do with me.”

“That will never happen, Jug, never,” she swears and this time moves towards him. “Your life might be a mess, but I’m a big part of why and I’m the one that’s sorry. I’ve just made everything that much harder for you.”

“No, no,” Jughead says forcefully and shakes his head. “You haven’t, I have. I’m letting everything get to me, and I’ve hurt you because of it,” he admits and lets out a long breath. “That night I said—I said that I feel like I’m going to lose you before I ever even have a chance to really have you and… that’s what I’ve been feeling for about a year now. We’re too young for us to really be together, but we’re also getting to the age where the marks matter now because it’s either going to happen or it won’t. We’re running out of time, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t imagine not being with you but I can’t fathom having you and losing you either.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Jug,” she tells him solemnly and bites her lip. “I can tell you how I feel about you until I’m blue in the face, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Because of everything you need a mark to be with me, and I’m finally accepting that—”

“No,” Jughead cuts in. “I want one, I want it more than anything, but I—I need you, Betty, just you, not a mark or-” he stops and scrubs a hand down his face. “That’s a lie, not completely, but—” he just looks at her and she struggles to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to need a mark to be with you, Betts, but… every day I’ll wonder ‘is today is the day I’m going to lose you?’ and it’s going to drive me crazy.”

“It’s not one-sided, Jug, I can’t imagine not being with you either and I think that’s why it hurts so much for me. It’s like you don’t believe in me or my feelings for you. I’m in love with you, and I don’t think at our age we even really know what that means yet, but I know I feel it for you. I know that I think of you more than I do for myself, I put you first in everything, and it hurts that you can’t even tell me you love me too, not in the way I can say it to you so easily,” she confesses and tries to swallow the knot in her throat.

“But I do, I do love—”

“Please don’t,” Betty pleads, now unable to stop teardrops from spilling over. “Don’t say it because you think I need to hear it or you’re losing me. I don’t want to hear it that way.”

“Betty,” he begs as he goes to touch her but she side-steps him again. “I hate that I’m hurting you like this, please just let me—”

“Oh, Jughead Jones,” Betty stops him and sniffles, somehow smiling at him through her grief. “Don’t you know you have the power to hurt me more than anyone?”

Slowly, he nods and wipes his nose with the back of his arm. “I do, I know I do because it’s the same with you,” he tells her and she sees his chest shudder as he breathes.

Betty wants to wrap her arms around him, to hold him through the pain, but she’s slowly finding that it won’t help. It only slaps a band-aid over his hurt, one that rips off when she’s no longer around and increases the pain ten-fold. She looks to the floor before squeezing her eyes shut at the realization, and now knows what she has to do.

 “I hate that I’m able to pull you into my head like this. I don’t—I don’t want to take that feeling away from you, the feeling that we are supposed to be together, just because I’m scared. You’ve always believed it, Betty, whole-heartedly, please don’t let my fear change that,” he insists and she can see the sincerity in his eyes, hear the hope in his voice. “You just told me a couple days ago you remembered everything about that day, how you felt, how I smelled, and you had so much conviction in your voice even at four years old, I swear to God,” he remembers in a chuckle. “You had that same conviction a couple days ago, don’t let that go. I’m sorry for everything I’m putting you through.”

“I can say the same to you,” she murmurs. “I know how low your chances are, Jughead, but I’ve always felt this possession of you, if that’s the right word, that _you’re mine_ and now I’m finally seeing that you don’t feel that for me.”

“I know you believe that, I want you too. I am yours, but there’s this voice in the back of my head, and it sounds like my dad, and it just keeps telling me that—” he stops and clears his throat. “How the hell could someone like me end up with you? I’m doing all these things to feel like I deserve you—”

“You do,” Betty says and can’t stop herself before she’s grabbing onto fists of his t-shirt as if he’s going to disappear.

“But I still feel miles behind,” he finishes and brings his hands up to cup her fists and then kisses them softly. “I—” he rests his forehead on hers and lets out a deep breath, relishing in her touch. “I don’t know what to say to make this better.”

“It’s not on you, Jug, it’s on me,” she tells him and he looks up at her questioningly. “We’re waiting on me, you know? So all we can do is wait.”

“What do we do in the mean time?”

Betty drops her hands from his chest, but he keeps a hold on them so they aren’t disconnected. “I don’t,” she stops and closes her eyes, thinking of what to say. “We’ve been doing things my way, holding on to what I said when I was four, maybe we should try things your way.”

“What… what does that mean?” he asks, tightening his hold on her and she hides a wince at the pressure on her cuts.

“Distance, I guess,” she answers quietly. “Not—we don’t _not_ hang out. We’ll just wait and not pretend anymore.”

“Betty, no, please don’t do this,” he pleads and can’t help but cup her face and bring her close. “You’ve never wavered in what you believed about us—”

“That was when I thought you believed it too,” she hiccups, tasting tears on her lips and finds she’s crying.

“I do, I do believe—fuck,” he swears and rests his forehead on hers once more.

Betty fights the urge to close her eyes and just enjoy being this close. She watches as tears start to rain down his cheeks too and tightens her fists at his sides, unable to stop herself. “I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, Juggie,” she whispers.

He simply shakes his head against hers before burying his face in her neck. With closed fists she wraps her arms around him, hoping he doesn’t notice the awkward hold.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeats over and over, and she has a flashback to when the police were taking him away from her at ten years old and she was saying the exact same words.

“This is my fault, okay? Not yours, please don’t beat yourself up. I—you were right, you can’t just decide that someone is your soulmate, I mean that’s what the marks are for right? I might’ve ruined us just because I felt so much for you, even then, right when we first met.”

Jughead shudders against her neck and she feels his hands shaking as he holds her. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“I’m still here, Juggie. I’m not going anywhere, and I still think of you as mine,” she tells him with her lips moving along his skin. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m still yours too, but you were right. We’re too young to be together and until we have, or don’t have, marks, I guess we’re in limbo.”

He finally pulls away just far enough to look her in the eye and she wants to wipe his tear tracks away, but knows her palms are bleeding. “Do you want me to leave or—”

“No, no, you can stay,” she cuts him off. “I just have to use the bathroom, then you can hang out for a while? Unless you want to leave.”

“No, I—I want to hold you,” he admits. “Is that okay?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do… that,” she whispers painfully. “But we can talk until we get tired,” she offers and slowly Jughead nods, his face the picture of pain.

Before she does something stupid, she pretends she doesn’t notice and goes to the bathroom. Once the door is shut, Betty lets out one sob before falling to the floor to gain control of herself. It might feel like her heart is being ripped out of her chest, but this is for the best, it has to be. If they don’t mark, distance is what will help now, so they can get used to being not them anymore.

She knows how Jughead feels about her even though he’s never said it. She’s never minded that he can’t say the words, especially since until a couple days ago she didn’t have the guts either, but—it was what she needed to hear right then. Betty wants him to have some kind of epiphany and try to beat down the bathroom door, tell her that all he needs is her, and then hold her all night long.

But—she asked for this too. She told him not to say the words. She agreed that distance was best, she knows that without a mark, even though they love each other, Jughead will lose his mind waiting for her to mark with someone else, and what kind of relationship, or life for that matter, would that be? It wouldn’t be fair of her to ask him to live like that.

Even though her chest feels tight and it’s like her lungs can’t get enough air, she battles through. Betty hiccups and stands on wobbly legs to go take care of her hands in the sink.

She’s not going to dwell of the if’s or maybe’s right now. She is going to listen to her own advice and just wait with Jughead by her side. It’s all they can do.

When she comes out Jughead is sitting on her window seat, his beanie being wrung out in his hands, something she knows he does when he’s frustrated. “You can, I mean, we can sit on my bed, Jug,” she tells him while sitting down on it herself.

“I just didn’t want to overstep bounds, or whatever,” he mumbles and sits at the very end of it.

“Is it going to upset you if I ask about your dad?” she questions rather than pull at that thread again.

“No, you can ask me anything, Betts, you know that.”

“Well, what’s going on with your dad? Is he out of jail?”

“Yes, he’s out. He only spent that one night. He’s in some mindset of turning his life around again? He asked Fred to take me in for a week or two so he could clean himself up, and the trailer, to try and entice Jellybean to come home. I think he knows my mom is lost to him, but Jellybean is still reachable. She doesn’t have much against him except for acknowledging that he’s not around as much as he should be, as much as Billy already is.”

“And your mom and Billy?”

“I don’t have anything bad to say about him except for the fact that he tore my family apart. But it was coming with or without him, I guess. At least this way I know my mom and Jellybean are safe, until he gives me a reason not to think so anyways. He’s not horrible, he’s just…” he trails off and adjusts himself to get more comfortable.

“He’s not your dad,” she finishes for him, wishing that the heavy tension they’d never had before goes away.

“Yeah, and I do remember my mom and dad being happy. Jellybean doesn’t, so in a way it’s easier for her, and I’m fine with that. I don’t completely trust him, or my mom for that matter, but she has been going to AA and making a point to spend time with Jellybean, and she’s still trying to reach out to me and be there for me, so,” he stops and shrugs awkwardly. “It’s an impasse I can live with for now.”

“There’s a lot of that going around,” Betty mentions and plays with her blanket to cover her hands. “So, tell me about the outside world, does Archie have a new crush yet this week?”

Jughead smiles at her in the way that makes her belly flip. “It wouldn’t be our Archie if he didn’t.”

“Alright, tell me all about her.”

“Well, all I know is what she looks like,” Jughead starts and the two burst out laughing, but it didn’t quite meet either of their eyes.

***

     “One of the newer theories behind soulmarks and why they exist is preferential reproduction. There are many studies in the early stages that are examining the most common difference between ‘natural’ and ‘unnatural’ children, and that is genetics…

What exactly does it mean to be an ‘unnatural’ child? Does having parents with soulmarks mean their children are meant to be or are physically superior? If so, what does that mean for the children of an unnatural coupling?

These are the questions scientists focusing on genetics are trying to answer.”

From _Genetics and the Interrelationship of Soulmate Markings,_ 2008

*

“Honestly, Elizabeth,” is the first thing Betty hears when she wakes up, and to be honest, it’s a bit of a rude awakening.

Her eyes open to find her mother unfastening her curtains, letting the harsh sunlight in and she squints with a groan. “Is something wrong?” she asks innocently, wiping the drool off her chin.

“Yes, something is wrong,” Alice states, complete with hands on her hips. “My perfectly healthy and able daughter is sleeping in until noon in the middle of summer!”

Betty tries not to groan again at the word ‘perfect’. If only her mother knew just how her messed up mind worked, or didn’t for that matter. “It is summer, Mom, that means relaxing and by extension, sleeping,” Betty replies before burrowing back into her pillow, hoping her mother doesn’t notice that it’s outfitted with one of Jughead’s t-shirts—a way she can smell him and be with him without hurting him specifically.

“If you were sitting out by a pool I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you, or if this was the first time, but this is becoming a pattern, Betty, and I don’t like where it’s heading,” her mom tells her, her voice softer now. “Don’t think I haven’t noted a certain boy’s absence around here, our fridge has never been this full. You really should warn me if you two fight, we’d save money on groceries.”

A smile reaches Betty’s face for the first time in what feels like weeks, and it probably is. “We can always donate to the food bank,” she offers cheerfully, but it isn’t up to par with her usual up-beat attitude, is so off the mark that now her mother comes and sits on her bed, abandoning her ‘no nonsense’ stance.

“Betty, sweetie, what’s going on. Have you gotten your period?” she asks while pushing blonde hair away from her daughter’s forehead.

“No, no, I wish,” Betty answers and leans into her mother’s touch. “Or maybe I don’t, I don’t know anymore, Mom,” she adds on in a whisper.

“I know you’re getting to an age where it’s not easy to talk to your mother, mine certainly didn’t know anything I was going through, and I think if I had talked to her I could have avoided a lot of mistakes,” Alice insists.

“What if you made the mistake when you were four?” Betty asks brokenly, looking at the floor.

Alice’s eyes widen before she situates her arms around Betty, the hold protective. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Mom, do you remember the day I met Jughead?”

Alice chuckles. “How can I forget? Everything after that day became all about him. It was all ‘Mom, Jughead does this’ and ‘Polly, Jughead said that’, your poor sister was so jealous. I don’t think she had seen her own shadow until you met the boy.”

Betty smiles at that too. “I have a tendency to obsess, huh?”

“You get it from me, hon,” Alice reminds her and kisses her head.

“Did you every worry I was putting all my eggs in one basket? Or after you learned about Jughead’s parents—”

“Betty, I knew from the beginning Jughead’s parents weren’t soulmates,” her mom admits. “You forget I went to high school with both FP and Gladys, and this isn’t a big town.”

“But didn’t you worry about me?” Betty repeats.

“You have no idea how many nights your father and I sat up worrying about you, about how to handle your situation, but in the end we realized that no matter what we did, if we forbade you from seeing him or were vocal about the impossibilities, you’d just do what you wanted anyways. You’re like me in that way too,” Alice says and squeezes her shoulders. “You’re a smart girl, Betty, and strong, and you were so sure from that very first day, honestly we were waiting for you to dance around singing ‘I told you so’ any day now.”

“That was my plan,” Betty confesses, earning a laugh from her mother.

“So what changed? If you don’t have your period… did Jughead mark with someone else?”

“No, no, Mom, no,” Betty shakes her head. “I just—I always believed in us because I thought I was right, undoubtedly, but,” she stops and sniffles.

“What?”

“Jug, he’s going through so much—there’s everything with his parents and now just his mom, it’s tearing him apart,” she says quietly. “And I thought I was helping, I thought I was being someone he could rely on, but all Jughead has been doing for a while now is distancing himself from me, protecting himself for when…” she trails off.

“You don’t mark with him,” Alice finishes with a knowing, motherly tone.

“I’ve just been hurting him this entire time too, Mom, and when I found out I—I,” she stops to even out her breathing. “I told him we should try things his way and take time, and I just, I feel so,” she starts tearing up and tries to hide it from her mom.

“Did I ever tell you about when your dad and I got our marks?” Alice asks, keeping Betty close.

“No.”

“It was senior year,” her mom starts and smiles to herself. “We were in study hall, and he was this guy on the football team I thought was a dumb Neanderthal,” she goes on and Betty laughs, surprising herself. “He was always loud in the halls and annoying during lunch hour, wasn’t involved in many extracurriculars, and I thought this guy is such a doof.”

“A doof? What even is that?”

“I don’t know, I made it up, but we had the same study hall,” she continues and Betty shakes her head. “One day something hits me in the back of my head and I thought I was just imagining things, but then it happened again. So I turn, and there he is wadding up pieces of paper and throwing them at me. They weren’t whole pages, just smaller pieces of one, but still annoying nonetheless,” her mom sighs. “And I turn in my chair, all huffy and big hair, and I scold him. I told him to act his age and not his shoe size and I even called him a doof then too.”

“Really? What did he say?”

Alice smiles down at her, all warm and affectionate. “He asked me for a pen.”

“What?”

“He lost his and wanted to do his homework, which is what he told me rather than respond to my outburst,” Alice tells her.

“And?”

“And I gave him one,” Alice says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“So, how did you mark?”

“Well, study hall was our last class of the day, and as we were leaving the room he stopped me, and handed me back a pen, but it wasn’t the one I let him borrow,” Alice says with a pointed expression.

“And I’m sure you let him know that,” Betty insists.

“You bet I did,” Alice agrees. “So I ripped the pen from his hand and went on this tirade about respect and being an adult and I felt so liberated when I was yelling at him, it really should have hit me before it did.”

“What?”

“Well, I was standing there just laying into him and he was looking at me with this dumb smile on his face. I wanted to smack it off of him because I was being _very_ serious.”

“Of course you were,” Betty teases.

“Finally, I said ‘what are you smiling at?’-well I think I yelled it, and he grabbed my hand and turned my wrist up and showed me my own soulmark, one that just formed on him too.”

Betty turns over her mom’s wrist and looks at her parent’s mark. It’s thin, but long, and stretches about four inches down their main vein with a point at the end. They say it’s a pen, and now she knows why, but she always thought it looked more like a needle, sharp and pointy. It’s their mark though, so it’s their interpretation that matters.

“What did you guys do after that?”

“He asked me to go to Homecoming with him,” Alice says in a contented sigh. “I said yes, this time with a dumb look on my face. We actually won Homecoming King and Queen, but only because the word got out about our soulmarks and we were one of the first in our class to get them.”

“And that’s it? Happily ever after?”

“Well, they say that, but it was hard. I went from thinking nothing of this guy to finding out he’s my soulmate. It’s a lot for a young girl to handle. Suddenly we were spending all our time together, and I love him, I do, but getting a mark does not mean love at first sight. Relationships are hard work, but love is worth fighting for, and marks are a special thing, the bond is definitely…”

“Hard to explain?”

“Yes,” Alice says with a nod. “But I didn’t choose your father, fate chose for us, and I wouldn’t change a thing about my life, not how I met your father, not our life together, and definitely not you or Polly.”

“But?”

“But I envy you, Betty,” Alice admits and Betty pulls away to look her in the eye better. “You… you got to know the person you love before you fell in love with them, and you did it without a mark holding you together. I’ve watched you and Jughead grow up, I’ve watched him look at you like you’re the sun, and I’ve witnessed you do everything can to keep him whole. And even without a mark now, even though you guys are going through all of this, he’s still the first person you’d call if something happened, good or bad, and you’re still the girl he puts on a pedestal and would do anything for.”

Betty rolls her lips together, not knowing what to say.

“You two are special without a mark, Betty, and that’s rare. I understand both you and Jughead are hurting in different ways, but at some point you have to decide whether what you have is worth more than a mark, or if that is all that will, or won’t, define you.”

“You know I’m only thirteen, right? I feel like that advice is too mature for me.”

“Sweetie, you called your uncle obnoxious when you were two, you’ve been far too mature for most of your life.”

“I did not do that!” Betty insists.

“You did and I was damn proud. Your father’s brother is such a—”

“If you say doof, I swear Mom, I am never letting you proofread another paper of mine,” Betty threatens.

“What I was going to say was more R-rated, but that will do. Anyways, let’s get you out of this room, huh? You’ve been off grounding for well over a week now. Oh, we can see how angry your sister still is at me, see if she wants to go out too? Maybe we can get our hair cut, do a little shopping, dinner?”

Betty didn’t feel like leaving her bed, had so much to think about, a lot of decisions to make, but sees the happiness in her mom’s eyes that she is letting her in and asking for her advice, that she can’t say no.

“Sure, Mom, whatever you want.”

*

She wakes with a start and tries to keep her heaves quiet, but she’s been through this before, she knows what’s coming.

While trying to be as quiet as possible, Betty tip-toes around Kevin’s living room, hops over his sleeping body, and heads for the bathroom in his furnished basement so she won’t disturb him or his dad.

Betty sits on the floor, hugs her knees to her chest and rocks back and forth, trying to control her breathing, wishing the tears would stop, hoping that the pit in her stomach would close, but knows willing for things to happen is childish.

It’s been happening for over a week now—panic attacks. At least, that is what Google says they are, WebMD too, and she knows better than to use those to self-diagnose but also knows it’s true. She just can’t bring herself to tell anyone about them. The one person she wants to is probably the cause of them, or their situation is, rather.

It first began with a dream of Jughead marking with someone else, a scenario she knows is unlikely, but if she’s hoping for him to mark with her she’s not about to discredit the possibility of him marking with someone else.

That night she woke, unable to stop herself from crying and digging into her palms, a fear in her gut like no other, and it was like her lungs forgot how to work. It took over an hour for her to finally unclench, and she’d lost so much blood she worried. Then, after a quick Google about how much blood one can lose before needing to seek medical assistance, she figured she was safe, probably.

Still, Betty knew the blood wouldn’t come out of her pastel pink sheets and threw them away in Archie’s garbage bin just so her mom wouldn’t find them and ask questions. Of course that meant she had to use her own money to buy another set, but it was better than explaining the missing sheets to her mom.

For several days, Betty had tried to get out of a previously planned sleepover with Kevin, but he’d plead total abandonment on her part, and she felt too guilty to back out.

So here she is, in his basement bathroom, palms bleeding, trying so hard to breathe through the pain in her chest, and a heaviness in her heart she can’t kick.

All she wants is to call Jughead, knowing that without a second thought he’d be on his bike traveling across town to Kevin’s, not even caring that he was sneaking into the sheriff’s house just to comfort her. Betty lets out a watery laugh as she thinks that he’d do the same if she just wanted a hug for no reason.

She thinks of his black hair, somehow never matted down even though he’s rarely without his beanie. She remembers the time she looked into his eyes for so long, trying to decide if they were blue or green, and honestly couldn’t figure it out. She recalls getting the call that her grandmother had died and how she immediately ran for Archie’s knowing Jughead was there, and how he held her for hours while she cried, then continued to until she fell asleep, which is when he carried her home and put her in bed.

Betty laughs to herself, because of course even though everything with Jughead is what is causing this choking grief and pain, it’s thoughts of him that pull her off the edge.

In a moment of weakness she manages to unclench enough so she can call him, even if it is almost four in the morning.

After a few rings it goes to voicemail, and her own voice comes through, _“Hi! You’ve reached Forsy—”_ she starts only for Jughead to interrupt, _“Betty!”_ and she can be heard giggling in the background. _“Just leave a message,”_ he says before it cuts off and beeps.

Betty hits the end button and calls again and again with no answer, but listens to his voicemail until her heart slows and her lungs start to work again. The weight stays in her stomach, as she knows it will, but usually it dissipates after she’s slept some, if she can get back to sleep, that is.

With no supplies to attend to her palms, Betty simply runs them under water and dabs them until the bleeding slows before figuring she’s cleaned-up enough to make her way back to the living room to try and at least rest if she can’t sleep, maybe catch up on some late-night TV.

When she opens the door, however, she finds Kevin on the other side and yelps. “Kev! Don’t do that!”

“What? Pee in the middle of the night? You had to too,” he reminds her and simply walks by without another word, and Betty figures she’s in the clear because he doesn’t seem to know how long she was in there or the real reason why.

She scurries upstairs to reclaim the couch before he comes out and turns on the TV before settling back into the cushions.

Kevin returns only moments later and all but collapses back onto his blow-up mattress, she actually worries he might pop it if he keeps plopping like so.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks after snuggling into his blankets once more. Kevin’s a big snuggler, but not with just anybody. Usually she sleeps with him because of it, but didn’t want to have to untangle herself if something like this happened, so she’s happy she chose the couch.

“I’m kind of going through his insomnia phase, I hope I grow out of it,” she answers and turns onto her side to face him.

“Hey, if I can grow out of tucking every shirt into my jeans and still wearing a belt phase, you can grow out of this,” he offers and she shakes her head at him. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Of course,” she tells him immediately. “I know I tried to get out it, but it isn’t because of you, Kev. I just feel like I’m drowning under all my own issues and don’t want to get more people involved than I have to. You have enough to deal with on your own, you know? Not that I’m not here for you if you need anything, you know I am.”

“I know you are, B, but there’s only so much talking can do to a point. My mom died, it sucks and my dad’s going to be heartbroken forever, but it is what it is. I honestly get sick of talking about it because it just reminds me, and him, that she’s gone,” he says with a far-off look on his face.

“How is he doing? Is being back to work helping?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he tells her. “He worries about leaving me home, but I like the silence. Actually, I don’t because I’m used to my mom always doing something, but I like that he’s trying to get back to our normal. Besides, I have you and Moose is… Moose,” he sighs.

“I know it’s hard. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own drama I forget everyone else has problems too, it seems. I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish recently.”

“I’m not a baby, Betty, I don’t need constant attention,” Kevin replies and they both laugh. “You’ve been there for me, you have, don’t think you haven’t. You’re the only person I feel like hasn’t been hovering and constantly asking me if I’m okay. You let me come to you, and I appreciate that. You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too, Kev,” Betty assures him and smiles in a very Cooper way. “And thank God you’re gay or else I wouldn’t be able to have sleepovers with you,” she teases.

“I know, your mom cut those off with Jughead and Archie at, like, ten years old.”

“I know, I wish I could have squeezed a few more years out of those,” she mutters. “Not that I’ve even done anything with Jughead still to this day, it’s too much for him.”

“How is he dealing with his parents? It’s the talk of the town.”

“Oh God, don’t let him know that, he’ll just crawl further into himself,” she pleads and stretches her hands out wide under her blanket to stop herself from squeezing, and makes a half-pained face in the darkness at the pull. “It’s hard, but he’s dealing. His mom is doing well, Jellybean is adjusting, but Jug’s making it as easy on her as possible. He bikes over to Billy’s at least once a day and has some kind of meal with her, makes sure everything is okay over there. He’s not very trusting of him yet, but it’s understandable.”

“And his dad?”

“Last I heard Jug was still staying at Archie’s, it’s week three of them being roomies. Archie’s room reeks of BO and teenage boy, but Jug is just hoping his dad is still working on himself. I hope FP is really trying. I know it would make Jughead so happy, if he’s just using this time to drink or sleep around or something, it’s going to break his heart,” she says and almost catches herself on her words, because she’s helping break his heart too.

“You’re still… not with Jug, then?”

“I’m not-not with him, I’m just—I couldn’t take him faking it anymore, Kev, so we’re just not doing that anymore. He doesn’t believe, I don’t think he has for a while, and I finally see that. I’m not going to make him pretend with me like he does with his family, I won’t let him.”

“You know he loves you though, right? You can tell just by how the boy looks at you. I hope a boy looks at me like that one day,” he sighs.

“I know it, I feel it, but he’s never said it. And it hurts that he won’t even let himself say it, but it’s something I’m trying to accept. He tried to say it that night, but I wouldn’t let him. It felt like I was asking him to say it, you know? I didn’t want to hear it that way.”

“You’re sure you still want to go to the Scare-A-Thon at the Drive-In tomorrow night? Or, I guess, tonight now,” he asks.

“Kev, you asked me a million times yesterday, of course I’m going. We’ve gone every year we we’ve been allowed to, I’m not going to miss it because of this. I told you, I’m not avoiding Jughead, we’re just not those kids anymore. We’ve hung out, alone and in a group setting, it’s awkward at first, but we get over it. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Betty, you do remember how you are during scary movies, right?”

“I’m fine, you all exaggerate too much,” Betty huffs to herself.

“You’re horrible!” Kevin chuckles and falls onto his back. “You spend two-thirds of the night in Jughead’s lap with your head under a blanket. What are you going to do this year if you’re not those kids anymore?”

“Use your shoulder,” Betty tells him easily. “Because you love me so much.”

“I can’t promise I won’t get annoyed,” he warns.

“Did you invite Moose to come with us?”

“Yeah, but he’s going with Reggie and the guys,” he answers. “He doesn’t… he says he doesn’t know what he wants. He likes me, but he likes girls too—”

“Being bi is a thing, he knows that, right?” she interrupts.

“Yes, but labels scare him. I’m literally the only openly gay person in school, in all the grades, and I’m only so open because it’s so obvious and I don’t care what people think. I worried about my dad, but—my mom always knew, and before she died she made my dad I talk about it, you know, so he’s adjusting to accepting his only son is gay, and his is the only opinion I care about.”

“I’m glad he’s cool with it, with you, I’d be upset if he wasn’t. I’d have a vendetta, it would turn into this big thing, it’s just easier if he is the cool Dad,” Betty tells him.

“Thanks for being there for me,” Kevin laughs. “Moose has problems accepting who he is, what he wants, and I can’t be mad that I came to my own conclusions earlier, you know? So, I get it. The whole marks things is just harder with the same gender. There are still stats and studies on it, but there are just so many more for hetero couples. Some say the more feminine one of the two has to initiate, others say it doesn’t matter who does it, there’s a new one about how if you’re not ‘out’ it can be harder, and it’s just—what the fuck? It’s not like being gay is entirely new, it shouldn’t be this hard.”

“I know, it sucks, but there is literally no real medical explanation for them, most of the info out there is theories, or just patterns, really. There is definitely more of a formula for heteros and it’s still hard, I can’t imagine having something else to make it even more difficult.”

“Either way, as far as we know, we’re both producing sperm, and we’ve touched all kinds of ways and still nothin’ so, who knows?” Kevin says with a shrug.

“I hate how I’ve basically been in a relationship since I was four and you still have done more than me,” Betty grumbles.

“It’s not a competition, B, boys just tend to find their dicks before girls understand what a clitoris is,” Kevin tells her and she hopes he can’t see how red she turns.

“But I’ve never even had a hickey,” she whines, making him laugh.

“Alright, that’s a little sad, but look at you, Betty Cooper, you’re beautiful and you’re still growing. I’m sure there will be a time that you have marks everywhere, in more ways than one,” Kevin states with a wink.

“Thanks, Kev, just for making me laugh,” Betty says and notices some of the heaviness has lifted. That tends to help too, focusing on something else, but it’s hard to do when she’s alone. “My mom wants me home by noon, but maybe you can come over before we head out to the Drive-In? You can help me get ready?”

“Yes, I love dressing you!” Kevin exclaims and Betty rolls her eyes, which he obviously sees because he adds on, “I know, I know, you have full veto power, don’t worry, I know the rules.”

“Good,” she says in a yawn and settles back down onto the couch. “Here, _Friends_ is on, that should help us fall asleep, you think?”

“Um, I don’t think so? I’m not passing on time to stare at Joey Tribiani,” Kevin replies in a ‘duh’ tone and Betty laughs again.

She needs to remind herself more often that she does have a life outside of Jughead, and it’s not a bad one, it’s not even an empty one, but it sure is a lot duller compared to when he is around.

When she gets home at noon, Betty is already planning on taking a nap before Kevin is due over later, because she’s freakin’ exhausted.

But when Sheriff Keller drops her off and she sees Jughead half-asleep on her front porch she sees the zzz’s slipping away.

“Are you okay?” he instantly asks her, stumbling down the steps to meet her halfway.

“Yeah, are you okay?” she responds in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Betty, you called me thirteen times last night,” Jughead reminds her and she nods while inwardly scolding herself for being stupid, then forgetting about it. “My phone was in Archie’s living room, we were upstairs. I tried calling you, but I know your phone is on Do Not Disturb most mornings, usually my number is one that can get through, but I guess that’s changed too. So I came over, but Polly said you slept over Kevin’s, and that you’d be home soon.”

“I’m sorry, Jug, I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m fine,” she lies and smiles at him, it’s completely fake, but she hopes he can’t tell. “It was—Kevin and I were playing around,” she tells him while sidestepping him to get up her steps.

“I know we’re not us anymore, whatever we were before, but I didn’t think we were lying to each other,” Jughead says to her back and she turns once she reaches the top. “I called Kevin, you must have already been on your way over here with his dad. He had no idea what I was talking about when I asked why you called so many times.”

“Jug, just leave it alone,” she pleads.

He climbs the steps too, stopping one before the top so they are eye-to-eye. “Why? You wouldn’t leave how I felt alone, it’s the reason things are like this, why should I do the same for you?”

“You think this is the same thing?”

“I don’t think it’s all that different. It has to do with me, has to do with your feelings, and you’re keeping it from me,” he explains.

“I didn’t leave how you felt alone because it was tearing you apart, Jug. You gave up on us a long time ago, so don’t put this on me. All I asked us to do was stop pretending, because once I realized that is what you were doing, it was—” she can’t say the words ‘breaking her heart’ to him, she knows he wouldn’t take it well. “I couldn’t be with you only when you needed saving, I want all the time. You can’t do that until we mark, or don’t mark, so until then what I do is my business, okay?”

“And it’s my business when you call me thirteen fucking times! Obviously you needed _something_ , you needed _me_ , so just let me help now. What can I do?”

“Nothing,” Betty tells him, her tone flat. “You can’t do anything. I’m trying to do things on my own, because as I’m learning you won’t always be there,” she says before turning and going for her door, not wanting to look at him because she knows that was a bit below the belt, so to speak.

“This is bullshit, you know that?” he says and she stops at the front door. “I didn’t—I didn’t ask for any of this. I finally told you how I really felt, and I feel like I’m being punished. It’s like I’m already losing the best thing that ever happened to me,” he goes on and follows her.

“I’m right here, Jug,” she assures him softly, but is unable to look in his eyes.

“Are you? Because it feels like your miles away.”

“It’s not fun, is it?” she asks, sniffling a little. “Trying so hard, but the person you’re reaching out for is just slipping away.”

Jughead nods and stares at his shoes. “I deserve that.”

“No, you don’t deserve any of this, Juggie,” Betty whispers and steps closer to him, wanting to feel his body heat if she won’t let herself actually touch him. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be mean to you, this whole situation is just impossible,” she apologizes.

“It’s definitely frustrating,” he agrees quietly. “I miss you, I—I’ve never gone more than twenty-four hours without seeing you before you got grounded, not unless you were on vacation or when I was in the detention center.”

“I miss you too,” she hiccups, trying to swallow the knot in her throat.

“Betty, don’t cry, I’m sorry,” he whispers and cups her face, and she can’t help but lean into his hold for just a moment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she murmurs before pulling away to wipe her face.

“Limbo is a shitty place to reside,” Jughead states, respecting her face.

“That it is,” she agrees in watery laugh.

“I wouldn’t want to be in it with anyone other than you, but that’s how I am with most things, so I don’t know how big of an impact that can really have,” he admits.

“It means more than you know,” Betty tells him.

“Are you okay though? I know something happened for you to call me thirteen times,” he mutters.

“I’m fine, Juggie, I promise,” she lies once more and put her brave face on.

“I’m holding you to that, you’ve never broken a promise to me before,” he reminds her.

Betty just nods. “I, uh, my mom wants me home for a while before the Drive-In tonight. So I’ll see you in a couple hours?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jughead tells her before smiling in that way that makes her feel like gravity isn’t real.

Jughead Jones, defying gravity, who knew he had it in him? Betty did, she always had.

…

“How much do you want to bet Betty almost pees her pants?” she hears Archie say to Jughead as she and Kevin approach his dad’s truck.

“Will not, I’m evolved, Archibald,” Betty states while tossing blankets into the bed, directly on Jughead.

“Oh, yeah, you’re so evolved, that’s why you always so no to scary movies when we suggest them on a regular basis, even the crappy black and white ones Jug wants,” Archie responds.

“They are not crappy, you just have no taste,” Jughead remarks from underneath the blankets he, apparently, has no interest in moving.

“I’m with Archie on this one,” Kevin says and hops into the bed of Archie’s dad’s truck.

“Hey!”

“B, you get scared at the mere thought of _Chuckie_ ,” he reminds her.

“Well, that doll is freakin’ creepy! Evil red-headed dolls are my kryptonite, okay? We all have them, like how Seth Rogen is Jug’s,” she insists while getting into the bed herself and removing the blankets from Jughead’s top half.

“Thanks,” he says and just smiles up at her, she tries not to let it get to her, but fails. “And don’t worry, there will be no evil red-headed creatures running around, except Archie, that is,” he adds on and Archie throws a wayward kick his way. “Ow, fuck off.”

“Where’s your dad? He take off already?” Betty asks Archie while arranging blankets so they are all comfortable and no one is complaining about their ass in two hours.

“Yeah, he’s over with some guys from the construction crew. He took the keys to the truck though, so there is no getting in there, just FYI.”

“Is your mom still in Chicago?”

“Yeah, my grandma is doing better, but she wants to stay with her for a while longer just to make sure. I’m supposed to go visit before the summer is over and my mom will come home with me,” Archie tells her. “Now, is it just the four of us?” he asks.

“I invited Ethel,” Betty offers.

“I invited Moose, but he said no, so,” Kevin answers with a shrug.

“He’s a jerk, dude, no worries,” Archie tries to help and sends a smile his way.

Betty shakes her head because Archie is completely oblivious to Kevin’s long-lasting crush on him, but at least Kevin knows to put no real stock in it. Archie is way too into girls to notice, but Kevin doesn’t mind pining from afar, and using Betty’s window from time to time.

She looks over at Jug, who is staring at her, and smiles in a knowing way, so she knows she’s thinking the same thing. She grins and looks down so she won’t laugh.

“So what is playing tonight?” Kevin asks while doing his usual plop down in the back of the truck. “The kid movies ended at sundown, so was the adult movie list posted yet?”

“Yeah, Jug looked, I don’t know why they try to keep it a secret every year, it’s not like it’s a big deal.”

“But _Chuckie_ isn’t on it, right?” Betty questions just to make sure.

“It’s not, I promise,” Jughead swears with a hand over his heart. “We usually only make it through three before your parents make us leave, so we’ll be seeing the original _Dracula_ , _Poltergeist_ , and _Scream,_ if they let us stay for a fourth, _The Amityville Horror_ too. I can’t wait until they don’t care how long we stay so we can finish the whole marathon. It’s a dream of mine.”

“Way to aim high, bud,” Kevin mentions and Jughead responds with a full finger point and wink.

“Hey guys!” Ethel appears with a smile and blanket of her own. “Thanks for inviting me!”

“No problem, hop on up,” Archie tells her, and even takes her hand to help.

Ethel blushes, but of course, Archie doesn’t notice. “Hey Ethel!” Betty greets. “Thanks for coming, I need more girls to help me with these guys.”

“I don’t think they are so bad,” Ethel insists.

“Yeah, thanks Ethel, way to be rude, B,” Kevin mutters grumpily and frowns.

“Oh, bite me,” Betty responds with a cheerful smile.

“Let me pick the spot and you’re on,” Kevin responds.

“Ew, why you do need to pick the spot? Where would you pick?” she asks with a grimace.

“If you’re not gonna let me, I’m not gonna say,” he says very nonchalant and she honestly has so many questions, but doesn’t know if she wants the answers.

“You are a very strange boy,” she settles on and he smiles as if it’s a compliment.

“Alright everyone, ante up, you know the drill,” Archie starts and holds out his hands.

Everyone reaches into their pockets for the obligatory ten dollars so they can get a smorgasbord to tide them over for most of the movie. Before the third one they usually all go get some kind of dessert since it’s not something that can sit out for a couple hours.

“Any special requests?” he asks and hops down with Jughead in tow.

“Don’t forget my ch—”

“Cherry licorice, the kind that pulls apart, I know, Betts,” Jughead cuts her off with a wink. “Anyone else?”

“Extra, extra butter in one of the tubs of popcorn!” Kevin calls after them and they wave him off.

“I love scary movies,” Ethel states as they fade away into the abyss of cars and people. “I always jump at the scares, so don’t worry if I do, I’m not really scared,” she goes on.

“Oh, no one will be paying attention to you, Ethel, don’t worry. Betty here can’t take satirical scary movies, you know when they say they are scary, but it’s really a big joke. She jumps at that shit,” Kevin tells her.

“I do not! I’m not that bad!” Betty insists before sitting down between Kevin and the wall of the bed of the truck.

“You are, but why are you sitting there? Shouldn’t you leave room for J—” Betty elbows him and he nods in realization. “I’m going to end up knocking you out by the end of the night, just so you know what you’re in for,” he warns.

“As long as you don’t bite me when I’m unconscious.”

“No promises.”

Betty shakes her head at him before turning away to try and be oblivious to Jughead’s impending return, maybe then she can ignore the hurt that will surely be splashed across his face before he hides it. They always sit together, _always_ , not just at the drive-in, but in general. Tucked under Jughead’s arm is always where she feels safe no matter what is going on around them.

She remembers telling him that once. It was late at night, Jughead had snuck her out of the house rather than sneaking in himself. They went to the park at the end of the street and laid at the landing at the top of the slides looking at the stars. She thinks they were eleven, maybe twelve, but recalls feeling invincible. It felt like the real world couldn’t touch them, and never would.

There is little Betty never told Jughead throughout the years. She’d shared every dream, desire, and fear. Now, she wonders if he had done the same, or if he’d kept more secrets than just not believing they were meant to be.

Just.

She laughs to herself. Just. As if lying about just that is so small.

“Betty, are you okay?” Kevin asks and she blinks up at him in confusion. “You just started laughing Joker-style, it’s kinda creeping Ethel out.”

“Is not, you’re the one who jumped,” Ethel responds, defensive.

Betty can’t help but laugh some more. “Yeah, sorry just thought of something funny,” she answers and the whole truck shakes as Jughead and Archie hop back in.

Betty avoids Jughead’s face in favor of staring out at multiple cars parked around them. She sees Polly in a Volvo with tinted windows and a head of red hair in the driver seat. She crinkles her eyebrows, but files it away for later.

“Betty,” a voice pulls her back.

“Huh?”

Jughead responds by holding out her licorice.

“Oh, thanks,” she mumbles and leans back to get comfortable in her position.

“Movie is starting in a minute,” Jughead says to the whole group before taking up residence laid out in front of them, his head on one of the few pillows they brought.

Betty sucks her lip in between her teeth and tries not to think about how soft his hair definitely is underneath his beanie. Her fingers twitch at the thought of threading her hands through the silky strands. She’d told him that night at the park that his hair was a soft spot for her, that whenever he took off his beanie, his security blanket, she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment because it meant he felt safe enough to do so.

She starts banging her head back against the truck lightly in frustration. It never occurred to her then that the turmoil going on within him was driving a wedge between them. Betty always knew Jughead worried about it, but after learning the full extent, how big it had built up inside him over the years, she wonders how she could have been so naïve.

Without a second thought she shared everything with him, not thinking that he wasn’t doing the same with her. She speculates if there is a whole side to the boy she loves that she doesn’t know.

The idea makes her heart race in a way that isn’t good.

Betty starts breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, a trick her grandmother told her was calming, but doesn’t know if that’s real or just a grandma thing, but always worked for her nonetheless.

Suddenly her chest feels tight and it she’s thankful they are watching a scary movie because everyone just thinks she’s nervous about the film.

Betty closes her eyes and asks herself just how _hers_ Jughead Jones really is.

The heaviness starts to set in her chest and her breathing picks up to compensate.

“Are you seriously this scared twenty minutes in?” Kevin suddenly questions making her jump.

“Hu—what?” she asks but her voice is more of a rasp.

“You’re hyperventilating, Betty,” Kevin states and everyone’s eyes are on her.

Jughead gets up on an elbow to get a good look, his beanie slowly falling down his head from the movement and he doesn’t make a move to fix it, is more concerned about her.

“Bathroom,” Betty whispers as she jumps out of the truck and takes off running, her hands already curling in on themselves to try and control some of the pain she’s experiencing.

She bypasses the dated structure in favor for the privacy behind it—where the older kids come to make out later in the night, but for now it’s deserted. She leans against the cold stone, her body bent in half with fists on her knees, willing her brain to just fucking work correctly for a couple more hours. She can fall to pieces later, right now she needs to be a Cooper, and Cooper’s don’t do this kind of thing in public, Coopers are always cool and collected.

“Betty!” she hears and whines to herself. “Be—Betty,” Jughead skids on the rocks as he comes to a stop at the side of the building. “Betty, are you okay, look at me,” he insists and squats down in front of her.

Her eyes slam shut because his face will be her undoing, and she knows it. Instead, she shakes her head while continuing the breathing technique she’s believed in for most of her life.

“Betty, please,” he pleads, his voice cracking, and her nails dig in so hard it makes her wince in pain. “Are you—Betty, stop, you’re bleeding,” he says and the dam breaks.

She collapses down into his arms, her hands caught between them, probably getting blood on at least one of them, but she just wants to feel that safety once more time if it’s most likely going to be the last time.

He said so himself, once she marks with someone else he’s gone.

“It—It’s okay, Betty, I’m right here,” he says in her ear, holding her tight and rocking her back and forth. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The words make her cry harder and he swears under his breath. He kisses the underside of her ear and the touch causes more hyperventilation because it’s so innocent and sweet, something their relationship isn’t anymore.

“Fuck, Betty, I’m making things worse. Tell me what to do,” he begs while pulling away, but she emits some kind of animalistic dying sound and throws herself at him to keep the contact.

He seems to understand and retightens his hold, this time falling down onto his butt and pulling her into his lap to keep her close.

“I love you, Betty,” he murmurs after a few silent moments, the only noises around them are her cries and as she tries too hard to catch her breath, her chest begins to hurt. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like I don’t, or doubt it. I’m so in love with you, Betty Cooper, that all this shit is causing me to lose my mind, and it looks like you’re feeling the same way.”

She wants to laugh, but can only concentrate on the rumble of his chest and feel of her body pressed against his, and is hanging on to his every word.

Betty feels her ponytail fall, probably from Jughead’s pull, but it was already halfway down on it’s own. His fingers start to lightly massage the back of her neck and head.

“I hate this, I hate that I can’t—I don’t know what to do. I haven’t known what to do for a long time,” he goes on, his tone defeated, and Betty can only heave against him. “No matter what’s going on, Betts, I’m still yours, I have been since I was five, and I always will be. I told you that you ruined me that night I was drunk, and that’s so fucking true. There’s no loving after you, Betty, none.”

She doesn’t know how long she cried into his chest, isn’t sure when exactly she stopped, but she did, and neither of them have said a word since. Her hands are still clenched, her nails nestled into the crevices in her skin just so. The pain is dull, but searing, and her fingers ache from holding the position so long.

All Betty does know is that she wants to stay like this for the rest of the night.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence and making her jump.

With a steady breath she separates just enough to shake her head and look at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jughead tells her and pushes some hair behind her ear. “How long as this been going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“I let it slide earlier when you lied to me, Betty, and I did it because I knew if I called you on it we would have just gotten into a fight. I’m not letting that happen again. How long has this been happening to you?” he repeats.

Betty looks down at her hands, she still hasn’t unclenched, and doesn’t want to. The pain is a constant, keeps her centered. “Not long, two weeks maybe, a little less,” she murmurs.

“Do you know what it is?”

“A panic attack. I—I did a little research. This one was the worst.”

“And when you called me last night… you were having a panic attack?”

Betty nods, her lip between her teeth, and feels tears form in her eyes. Why can’t she stop crying? “I’m sorry I lied, I—didn’t want you to know. I knew you’d blame yourself.”

Jughead simply responds by pressing a hard kiss to her temple.

“It’s not you, Jug. It’s my brain. It’s never worked right. I mean, I declared we were soulmates when we were four. That should have been our first clue.”

“Stop,” Jughead orders. “Nothing is wrong with you, there is definitely nothing wrong with your brain. If anything, something is wrong with the world around you, and you… you see things how they should be. It’s the world that’s fucked, Betty, please believe that.”

She simply nods, not knowing what to say.

“Let me see,” he whispers and reaches for hands.

Betty’s first instinct is to hide them, but it just makes her grip loosen and the loss of pressure disturbs the wounds.

Her fingernails are caked in blood and for the first time, as Jughead unfolds her fingers she sees what she’s doing to herself. The crescent shapes are deep and an angry red, the sight makes her start to shake.

“What’s wrong with me?” she sniffles.

“Oh, baby, nothing,” Jughead assures her readily and gathers her hands in his, then brings them to his lips to kiss. “We’re going to figure this out, okay?” he promises, his lips against the skin of her palms and she shivers. “Tell me you believe me, but only if you trust it.”

Betty nods slowly. “I do, I promise, for real this time.”

Jughead kisses her hands again, then absent-mindedly squeezes them and she winces. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I—I felt like I deserved it,” she starts after a moment and he looks at her questioningly. “The pain, after everything I’d done. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you, I was walking around with blinders on. I thought if we believed hard enough, if we both committed to it, to us, I couldn’t be wrong. When you told me you weren’t sure anymore something inside me cracked. The pain seemed minimal compared to what I’d done to you.”

“Betty…”

“And it was something I could control. Everything around me is up to someone, or something, else. My parents want me a certain way, my sister another, to our friends I’m the perfect girl next door, you said so yourself, I do so much to be everything everyone else wants me to be, to please everyone else. This is something dependent on me. I decide to do it, to stop it, to hide it, to keep it mine. But I guess, I guess it’s controlling me now too, huh?”

Jughead takes in a deep breath before standing up and leaning both hands on the building behind them.

Betty stands too, and reaches for his arm even though her hands are still a disaster, but before she can touch him he punches cement. She gasps, but he just throws another hit, and then she grabs onto his elbow. “Jug! Jughead stop, please,” she pleads. “Juggie.” She uses the tips of her fingers to turn his chin so he’s looking at her. There are tears in his eyes and she doesn’t hesitate before putting arms around his neck.

“Hurting each other isn’t enough anymore? Now we have to hurt ourselves too?” he says against her neck with a shudder.

“I guess we’d rather do that than keep hurting each other,” she whispers.

“Love is fucked up.”

“We finally agree on something,” Betty attempts to joke.

Jughead pulls away and rests their foreheads together. “Can I walk you home?”

“In the middle of the Scare-A-Thon?”

“Fuck the movies, Betty, I just want to be with you. I feel like I haven’t spent any real time with you in weeks and it’s driving me insane,” he admits.

“I know the feeling, but you know it’s like a thirty-minute walk, at least, right?” she asks.

“So?”

Betty nods. “Okay, I just… should take care of my hands and stuff.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees and holds up his scraped knuckles.

“Can we just not worry about the future tonight? Can we just be thirteen?” she asks.

“Can I be fourteen?” he questions with a knowing smile.

“Okay, smartass, get to the bathroom and text Archie so they don’t come looking for us. And tell him that if Kevin eats all my licorice—” she stops when he fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“Here, you be me, text him and threaten our friends, I gotta pee. I’ll meet you back out here,” he says with a peck to her lips and disappears to go around to the front of the building.

She stands there with a goofy look on her face before snapping out of it because she feels a small sense of peace return to her, and it’s all because of Jughead, but would it really have happened with anyone else?

They end up in his old treehouse since a now elderly couple lives there, and obviously don’t use it.

It resembles the night she was thinking of earlier. They are both laid out on the floor, their heads meeting in the middle to share a pillow they grabbed from Archie’s.

They talk about his dad, how he worries it’s been a week longer than he said, and how Jughead wonders if he’s worth coming back for. Betty turns onto her side to look him in the eye, even if upside down, to assure him he’s worth more than coming back, he’s worth changing your life for.

She tells him about Polly, how heartbroken she is, and she reveals that she saw her with Jason at the Drive-In. Betty worries about Polly getting even more hurt, but respects her sister going after what she wants and making her own decisions instead of waiting for a mark. Life is too short.

Jughead waits until later in the night to ask about her palms, wants to know exactly what is going through her mind when she feels the need to do it. She speaks of the release it brings, even if she is ashamed, and Jughead kisses her forehead and reminds her that he’ll never judge or hold anything against her. He just wants her to be okay, to not hurt herself.

Betty promises to call him if she catches herself doing it, or at least as she is cleaning herself up.

Eventually, the talking stops and Betty just runs her fingers through his hair as he massages the back of her head and she feels better than she has in weeks.

It turns out they aren’t good at staying away from each other, but Betty can’t find it in her to be upset about it. Maybe it means if they don’t mark, that eventually, even without that to hold them together, they’ll still find their way to one another, that maybe it will just take them longer.

…

In the morning, when Betty wakes up there’s a smile on her face, but it’s followed by a wince when she feels a pain in her stomach and achy in her thighs.

She groans and rolls over, because of course after a night that ended wonderfully she has to wake up not feeling well. As she turns to get more comfortable, she feels a wetness between her legs.

Instantly she jumps out of bed and is in the bathroom pulling her pants down before the door is even closed behind her.

The red staining her underwear says it all: she finally got her period. She shudders as she looks at herself in the mirror.

Limbo’s over and done with, now reality is ready and waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? 
> 
> Let me know! Reviews are my muse! They help me continue very much so, and after a crappy week they are very much appreciated.
> 
> The aesthetic for this chap should be posted soon, by myself and Jandy, and usually she puts in her review, so either go on tumblr or wait around for her to yell at me on here.
> 
> Thanks!


	4. A Crown of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to pretend any of you are reading this, I'm sure you're rushing to see what happens, so enjoy.
> 
> But, as always, I must say thank you to Jandy for helping and beta-ing, and making the wonderful aesthetic. She's amazeballs, even though I make her cry all the time.
> 
> -Kay

     “Society uses marks as a sign of permanence, we think of them as the world’s way of telling us this is the person we are supposed to be with, and many take this as absolute truth… Most scientists are still insistent at finding a reason for the marks that there is almost no study of those who mark with one, but choose to be with another.

Undoubtedly, it is a small number, so small there are no real statistics for it, but the group does exist… With such an insurgence of ‘unnatural’ children every two to three decades, is it any surprise that slowly, but surely, there are people finding that it takes more than a mark to want to be with someone.”

From _Unmarked and On The Rise,_ 2012—an underground NYC magazine

*

The first thing Betty learns about finally having her period is that it sucks. It makes her wonder why she wanted it for so long—now, not only is she in pain, but the moment she’s been waiting for is right in front of her and it was terrifying. Well, if she actually tells Jughead about it, that is.

The night before had ended so perfectly and given her a glimmer of hope. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

Betty attends to her red-friend before crawling back into bed and curling into a ball. She doesn’t want to see anyone, talk about any of it, or leave her bed.

She remembers her mother giving her ‘the talk’ when she was around ten years old. She knows all the implications about puberty and how it relates to getting the soulmark, but she realizes she’s not put much thought into the actual getting her period part. Polly has all the supplies she needs in their bathroom, so that’s easy enough to handle, but Betty also recalls her mother telling her how painful menstrual cramps were for her when she was younger and Betty had thought nothing of it, after all she had been much more excited to get the initial sign of womanhood for other reasons.

Now, Betty wants it to go away so she can have a little longer with Jughead and not feel like her abdomen is being ripped out would help too.

Her phone goes off just as she is feeling like sleep might overtake her and she curses under her breath.

It’s a text from Jughead. _Archie wants to have our own scary movie marathon today since we ‘bailed’ on him yesterday._

Betty reads the words and her heart sinks. If she hadn’t woken up with her period, she would have jumped at the chance to spend the day in Jughead’s lap with Archie laughing at her. It would have been the perfect day after following last night’s end.

But now?

_He said we can skip Dracula because it sucked, but I have seen it and can assure you he is wrong. He said you’re the deciding factor on if he has to sit through it again._ She has yet to respond and they’re acting like she’s already agreed. _I don’t know in what world he thinks you’ll be able to resist my sad eyes compared to his… he insists you’ll be fair in this decision. I know the truth._

Betty smiles a little at that one and wishes her period could have come a day later. She doesn’t know what to say, so she hasn’t said anything at all. _Betty? It’s past 9am so I know you’re awake. You physically don’t know how to sleep in. Is everything okay?_

Her breath catches in her throat—he isn’t up to date with her sleeping patterns this summer, obviouslybut this time he’s not wrong, she was up before nine this morning.

With trembling fingers, she picks up her phone to respond. _I’m here. Sorry. Left my phone in my room._ She knows she shouldn’t lie to him, they just said last night they wouldn’t do it with each other anymore, but—she’s not ready to see him either.

_Archie wants to know if you’re in, we’re heading out to get the movies soon. Fred said you can come with if you want._

Betty groans into her pillow while typing her answer. _I can’t. I’m kind of in trouble again. My mom found out we left the movies alone and wasn’t happy. She said no matter what we are going through that isn’t appropriate._

Jughead’s response is almost immediate. _That does sound like your mom. I’m sorry, Betts._

She’s far too good at lying to him, she’s learning. And he’s so trusting. It makes her want to cry. It dawns at her that at least she has an explanation for why she’s been so emotional and teary lately. Betty really should have seen this coming, in retrospect.

_I don’t know how long I’m under lockdown for. Once I find out, we can redo the marathon then?_ The offer is real. She hopes if they don’t mark, that they’ll still find their way back to each other somehow. Betty knows it will take some time, a long time, but what’s a little time when they, hopefully, end up back together?

_Definitely. Let me know if there is anything I can do?_

_I will. Have fun with Archie, and tell him we are for sure watching Dracula when we do the rewatch!_ If Archie thought his sad eyes were even remotely up to par with Jughead’s the boy had another thing coming. Know your audience for this type of stuff.

_That’s my girl. Call if you can later? Love you._ Betty’s heart clenches and it makes her struggle for breath for a moment. He said it. Well, he wrote it, but he put it out there first and it made her want to jump out of bed and into his arms.

She hopes last night was a turning point, and when she finally gets the nerve to tell him the truth and touch him that the feeling will hold.

_I love you too._

…

Betty manages to hit day three before her mother catches wind of her ‘grumpy attitude’ as Polly calls it. (Polly is only really upset because Betty won’t cover for her going to hang out with Jason, and by cover Polly had suggested Betty tag along with Jughead, like that wouldn’t be weird?)

“Do I have to prepare myself for another dose of motherly wisdom? Or will a run of the mill inspirational quote do the trick? I did a Google search and once you get past all the overdone ones of ‘shoot for the moon, even if you miss you’ll land among the stars’ they aren’t so bad,” Alice says as she comes into Betty’s bedroom with a basket full of laundry, no doubt her excuse for this visit. Like she hasn’t been making Betty do her own laundry, and put it away herself, for years. “They are still horrible, of course, but not so bad if you’re in a real time of need.”

“I don’t think I need wisdom, I’m just procrastinating this time. I know what I have to do,” Betty answers as she continues to attempt to read the book in her lap. That summer reading list ain’t gonna read itself! Which is actually what is written at the top, because apparently her English teacher next year is cheesy.

“Anything your mother should know about?” she asks while sorting through the folded laundry to put away.

“Is this one of those things where you know what is going on and you’re testing me to see if I’ll tell the truth or lie?”

“Well, if I told you that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?” her mother answers and Betty can’t help but agree. She’s got her there.

“Okay, well, I, uh, got my period Sunday morning,” Betty stutters out. It’s the first time she’s said the word aloud, and already she wants to take them back.

“I know, that’s why I have the heating pad at the bottom of the basket,” Alice tells her and hands it over with a knowing smile.

“Mom! I’ve been looking for this for over a day now!” Betty whines, twisting herself to get the plug into the outlet near her bed.

“You’re not very discreet, sweetie. Plus, your sister and I have it right now too, the wonders of having so many women in one household. Your dad is going to discover what hell is like. Not only two teenage daughters, but two with their periods at the same time, along with his wife? Poor guy,” her mom sighs while sitting on the bed with her. “Anyways, I stocked the bathroom with medicine and more tampons and pads, I don’t know which you prefer. I used pads for a year or so before I started tampons, but that’s totally up to you. Also, this is your period pad, you do not have to share with Polly, she has her own. It’s a gift from me to you, and an apology for the cramps. You do grow out of them, I don’t get them much anymore.”

“Going on birth control helps too,” Betty mumbles before leaning back with the pad splayed over her abdomen. “Not that I—I mean, I’m still a—”

“I know, Betty. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I think we can hold off on it for a little bit longer, don’t you?”

Betty simply nods. “Yeah, I just Googled how to get rid of cramps and it was the top answer.”

“Getting out of the house can help too, moving around, but I’m assuming there is a reason you’re not crying or snuggling with Jughead right now,” her mother says knowingly.

“We had such a good night together on Saturday, Mom. We finally talked about stuff we’ve been fighting over, told each other things we were hiding, and—I felt like I had him back, then I woke up on Sunday and,” she stops by looking down, as if glaring at her uterus will help the situation.

“I take it he doesn’t know about this development?”

“No, I—I’m too scared to tell him because I know he’ll want to find out right away, and I… I’m scared. I don’t want to lose him, Mom,” Betty whispers.

“Baby,” Alice pushes hair behind her head and hooks a finger under her chin to make her look her in the eye. “If he’s really yours, you won’t lose him. If you don’t mark, it will be hard. You’ll be hurt and heartbroken. As a mother, I’m scared you won’t mark either,” she confesses. “But if you’re as special as I think you are, eventually it won’t matter to him. That boy is so wrapped around your finger I think all it will make him do is hold you tighter.”

“So you… don’t think I’ll mark with him?”

“What I think doesn’t matter. What matters is what you and Jughead think, what the two of you feel for one another. You’ve spent almost ten years ignoring the white noise of what everyone else thinks about you two, about what you feel for him. Don’t stop that now that you’re near the finish line. Believe in yourself, believe in him, and don’t hold off for too long, summer is almost over, after all,” Alice mentions as she stands and rights her blouse and skirt.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Betty asks.

“If you do mark, you have time together before school starts. If you don’t, you have time to deal with everything that will bring. You’re my daughter, Elizabeth, you’re strong and stubborn and I know that no matter what happens you’ll be fine. Maybe not right away, but you will be.”

“Promise?” Betty calls after her once her mom is walking out of her bedroom.

“I promise,” Alice states with a wink before closing the door behind her.

Later, after a nap, Betty decides to take a long shower, followed by a bath because no one is home so why not hog the bathroom, and the hot water tank, for a while? Polly surely doesn’t mind hogging both when Betty is home and in need of it.

The hot water helped alleviate some of the pain and she finds it feels nice to treat herself, even just a little. Betty is still new to shaving, so she does that too after draining the tub, and steals Polly’s expensive lotion to rub all over herself.

She spends time brushing her hair out, it’s longer now that it has been in a long time, almost two inches past her shoulders. When it’s long it just feels like more work, but Betty likes this length and blow-dries it until it’s not so damp so it won’t dry funny.

After about two hours of pampering herself to feel better, Betty comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a big, white fluffy towel feeling a little brave, and thinking about calling Jughead to talk only to find him on her bed, thumbing through the book she had been reading for a day now.

“J—Jughead!” she exclaims, holding the towel tighter. He must have been enthralled with the book because he only notices her entrance into the room when she says his name. Instantly, his eyes snap up to her, then slam shut in quick succession. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demands to know, her entire body turning red. She’s _naked_ , and Jughead is only steps away.

“I—shit, I’m sorry, Betts,” he apologizes and stands, only to trip on something and stumbles. His hand is now slapped over his face, like he doesn’t trust himself to only have one form of coverage. “You were in the bathroom and I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t think you’d come out, you know,” he waves his other hand around vaguely.

“Naked? I was in the bath!”

“I saw that your parents weren’t home yet and took a risk. I just wanted to see you,” he admits awkwardly since he’s standing right in front of her and not only are his eyes closed, but also has his hand covering them so he won’t peak. She can’t help but find it cute even if it’s a bit mortifying.

“Do you think you can get into my closet without breaking something?”

“Shouldn’t you go into your closet? You’re the, uh, well, you know,” he stutters with frilly hand waves. “You smell really nice,” he mumbles a moment later.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, then snaps out of the cuteness. “I don’t keep underwear and stuff in my closet, Jug, and it’s not like I’m going anywhere so I can just grab something from my drawers. Why am I explaining this to you? Just get in my closet!”

He holds a hand out. “Do you think you can lead me there so I don’t break a bone?”

Betty almost takes him up on the offer before remembering. “Uh, you know what, I’ll just grab clothes and go into the bathroom. Just stay there, like that, and don’t be a boy and try to get a peepshow, okay?”

“I’m giving you a very dirty look right now because you know I wouldn’t do… that. I respect you too much. I’m actually offended—”

“I’m going into the bathroom, you can keep scolding me, go on,” she jokes and lets out a huffy stomp and whine once she’s in the clear.

Betty regrets thinking she was feeling brave enough to call him because the universe decided to screw her over and have him just show up at her house instead. Then, she regrets not paying more attention to what she took from her dresser because in her haste she didn’t get a bra and only has a skimpy old tank top in her hands.

“Fuck,” she groans and glares at herself in the mirror. “Today just keeps getting better,” she sighs and quickly she puts on the fitted blue jeans, making sure to pay attention to her monthly visitor, and puts the tank top on.

It’s not—okay, it is going to show Jughead more than he has ever seen, but it’s not like he’s going to see much, the tank top does have one of those built in bras. She’s only just now finally growing boobs, so a real bra isn’t always necessary, but—she went from pretty much nothing to a bit of something in a couple weeks’ time.

“Here goes,” she mutters to herself before exiting the bathroom.

Jughead is back on her bed, his shoes and plaid button-up discarded leaving him in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt. His beanie is on her bedside table and it makes her heart speed up. That means he’s feeling vulnerable, not only that, but he’s feeling comfortable enough to show her that he is.

“Hi,” Betty whispers with arms crossed over her chest, then rethinks of the stance knowing it’s making _them_ more prominent.

“H—Hi,” he greets while clearing his throat.

“Hi,” she repeats in a breathy tone.

Jughead chuckles. “This whole puberty thing is going well, you look, um—okay, I don’t know what to say without admitting I’m trying not to stare.”

Betty’s heart swells because while she knows Jughead has always found her pretty, has told her to himself, but she’s never felt stare-worthy, not with girls like Cheryl Blossom around knowing exactly what she has and proudly flaunting it about.

“Really? I mean, it’s—I’m not used to it being a problem. It’s like they grew overnight. My mom actually bought me real bras with underwire and stuff, but you didn’t need to know that,” she breathes and bites her lip.

“Maybe we should not talk about it because I have my own growing going on and—” he stops when she chirps out a laugh. “Not right now, just… in general. Let’s change the subject, huh?” he suggests and clears his throat. “Sorry about not announcing myself. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, you were respectful,” she assures him and shifts around the edge of her room, trying to keep distance between them. “I don’t think I would have responded well to you barging in on me in the bathroom either. So, uh, what brings you by?” she asks, and wishes she didn’t suddenly sound, or feel, so awkward. Being weird about their growing bodies is normal, that she knows, but she doesn’t want to be just plain weird with him.

“Well, I ran into your sister in town,” he starts while standing. “I asked if she knew anything about when you’d be off-grounding and she was very confused because she’s under the impression you’re not in any trouble at all.”

“Ugh, Polly,” Betty whines and covers her face.

“What’s going on, Betty?” he asks while coming closer.

At the thought of them touching Betty backs up and hits the bathroom door, wincing as the bathroom doorknob digs into her back.

Jughead stops his advance and studies her. “Betty, I thought after the Drive-In we were going to be different, more like us again, but with everything finally out in the open. I felt better that night than I have in weeks,” he admits while rubbing the back of his neck.

She stops herself from stepping towards him. “I did too, Jug, please believe me.”

“Is this because of your hands? Did something happen and you’re worried about telling me? You know all I want to do is help you, Betty, you don’t have to—” he stops as shakes her head.

“No, I—I haven’t done it since that night, I promise,” she assured him. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve caught myself almost doing it, but I haven’t. I’m really trying to stop. It’s,” she sighs as she feels the need to do it now, so she stretches her hands out to fight the urge.

“Betty,” Jughead murmurs, seeing her movements, and closes the distance between them.

Betty backs into the wall, this time with her hands behind her back so she can’t touch him. “I’m—I’m okay, I swear, I haven’t done it,” she repeats.

“I do believe you, but with the way you’re acting, it’s not very reassuring. What’s going on, Betts?” His hands settle on her waist and she flinches, making him look at her with questioning eyes. “Betty, you’re not—I mean, did you…?”

She slowly nods at his unasked question, blinking away tears.

“Oh, shit,” he strings together and steps away. “You got your period?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Betty apologizes with her droplets falling. “I just—Saturday was so perfect, and when I woke up Sunday I had it, and I was so scared. I’m so scared, Jughead,” she admits. “Please, can we just hold off for a while?”

“Hold off? Betty, this is what we’ve been waiting for forever,” he reminds her. “All you have to do is touch me and—”

“And possibly lose you forever, Jug, no, I won’t and you can’t make me,” she states, her tone firm even though her lip is quivering.

“So you’re just going to never touch me again? Every time we’re together you’ll sit on your hands and make sure we’re never next to one another? I guess that’s fine, we’ll just never walk beside each other either, but we’ll have to be careful and make sure we never reach for the same thing at the same time. You know, this could be tricky, maybe we should get you a straightjacket to make sure we don’t forget for a single second.”

 “I’m not opposed,” Betty whispers.

“Betty, come on,” he pleads, his voice low and intense. “What, you want to be together and not touch? I don’t know about you but with all the growing going on I was really getting hyped for it.”

“Jug!” Betty tries not to smile as she scolds him. “Be serious!”

“I am. You tell me how you think this will work? You’ll just never initiate contact with me, or any other guy, for the rest of your life?”

“I know I’m being unreasonable, okay, but I don’t care. I just got you back, I’m not going to lose you again.”

“Betty,” Jughead sighs and cups her face. She resists the urge to lean into his touch. “You never lost me, you will never lose me. I’m always going to be right here.”

“No, you said so yourself, if we don’t mark, you’re gone, remember? We were outside your trailer and—”

“And I was drunk and angry, and fuck—I can’t lie to you, I won’t,” he says and brackets his arms around her, bringing him so close their noses are brushing together and his breath tickles her eyelashes. “I said that because that’s how I felt, that’s the only way I can see myself not falling apart, but Betty… if these last few weeks being so shitty has taught me anything it’s that I can’t stay away from you. I love you, Betty, and saying those words felt so liberating. I thought I was protecting myself by keeping them in, but when I finally said them, when I saw how it helped you, how it calmed you down, I knew right then that I didn’t need a mark to know I should be with you. I just know it myself.”

“That’s beautiful, Juggie, and I believe you, but,” she stops and sniffles. “You’ll worry every day that I’ll get a mark with someone else. I don’t want to put you through that. That’s not fair. It will get to you, nag at you—”

“So will you, Betty. You don’t think you’ll nag me about it and reassure me so many times a day that one day I’ll finally believe you? It’s going to be hard, we’ll fight and I’ll make you cry and feel like an ass, then do something over-the-top to make things right. You’ll get annoyed about my worries and scream at me, your face will turn red and you'll do that stomping thing you do when you're frustrated.”

“You promise? You promise that you won’t push me away or—”

“I can’t promise that. I can’t promise it won’t be hard or feel impossible sometimes. I can’t promise I won’t push you away or feel like I’m slowly losing you because I know there will be times I’ll be weak and do those things. But I do promise that at the end of the day I’m always going to be the one climbing through your window to be with you. I’m always going to find my way back to you. I need you as much as you need me, probably more. After all, I can’t resist you, Betty Cooper.”

She blinks away tears and nods, trying to be brave. “Can you back up?” she asks and he does as he’s told. “I know that… I know if we don’t mark the first couple days will be the worst. I know that you’ll need time to be angry and you’ll worry about me touching Archie and,” she sniffles. “I know all that, so just please, please come back to me when you can see straight again,” she pleads.

“After a day or two I don’t think anything could keep me away.”

Betty pushes off the wall and shakes out her hands to get some feeling back. “Can I kiss you?” she whispers, and his eyebrows rise in question. “Can that be how we find out? We’ve only really kissed once and I ruined it. I want to have been really kissed by you before,” she stops and swallows the knot in her throat.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he tells her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They simply stare at each other for a moment, Betty trying to get her nerve, Jughead trying not to jump out of his skin, then suddenly she crashes into him. She comes at him so hard he stumbles back, his arms locking around her waist as her lips slant over his.

They take it slow for only a second before their mouths are moving together. Betty feels warmth spread from her toes to her hair follicles. She doesn’t care that their teeth clank together, or that neither of them know exactly what they are doing, she just wants to keep kissing him and never stop.

She’s on her tiptoes with her hands in his hair and Jughead’s fingers are skimming the skin that her tank top is revealing at the small of her back and Betty feels _high._ High as in she’s floating, maybe literally flying, and a heat gathers in her heart that is calming, yet sets her on fire.

The feeling is so overwhelming she pulls away with her chest heaving.

She looks up at Jughead, but he isn’t meeting her eye, he’s looking further south. In different circumstances, she might feel giddy that he’s looking, she’s still new to garnering attention there, but right now is not that time. “Jughead, really?”

“Betty,” he whispers and nods down to where he is looking.

Betty follows his eyes and finds what he’s fixated on. It’s not her cleavage, it’s a mark, and it’s over her heart.

“Oh, my Go—” she stops and yanks down at his neckline to check his skin. Sure enough, there is a matching mark over his heart.

It’s a light gold, and resembles a three-point headpiece, and looks like it could be glowing, is radiant on his skin and the sight of it causes her to release a tearless sob.

With shaking a hand Jughead reaches up and runs his fingers over it. “It’s a crown,” he whispers.

“It’s a soulmark,” Betty corrects and outlines his own, the one that shows the world he is hers, just like she’s been saying for ten years.

“You were right,” Jughead says, his voice a mere breath. “I’m so sorry I made you think—”

“Shut up,” Betty orders, happy tears bright in her eyes. “None of that, okay? No dwelling on what we said or did, or what we fought about. What matters now is this,” she tells him with a hand splayed over his heart, over their mark. “It doesn’t matter that you’re an unnatural child, it doesn’t matter that your mom found her soulmate later, or that this whole system is a sham. Through it all, through all the statistics and theories, you are marked with me, you were _meant_ for me. You believe that now, don’t you?”

Jughead wipes his nose with his arm and nods. “I do, I should have believed you all along. I love you, Betty Cooper,” he confesses, his forehead resting on hers, the purest smile she’s ever seen gracing his lips.

“Jughead Jones, I love you,” she replies and grins. “You know what that means?”

“Hm?”

Once again Betty launches herself at him, only this time he falls to the floor and she’s kissing him all over: his cheeks, forehead, eyelids, jawline, everywhere she can reach. “I told you so!” she squeaks between kisses, then settles on his lips.

It’s featherlight at first, their mouths just ghosting together. Soon enough Jughead cups her cheeks and brings their lips firmly together. The kiss starts to deepen, them tentatively moving their mouths, making this one really count, when her door bursts open.

“Betty, are you—Elizabeth Cooper!” her mother exclaims.

 “Mom!” Betty sits up, her entire body red, probably. “You’re home.”

“Betty,” her mom says, her voice lower, her face softening.

Because of the tank top she can see the mark, the crown over her heart. Alice’s eyes flick to Jughead and Betty pulls down the neckline of his shirt to his. Betty thinks she sees tears in her mom’s eyes, but it’s only for a second, it must have been a trick of the light.

“Well,” Alice says with a small smile. “Jughead, will you be staying for dinner?”

“What?” both she and Jughead respond. “That’s the first thing you ask?” Betty questions.

“What? It’s official now, isn’t it? You’re family. Around here we have family dinners together. Of course, you don’t have to come every night, but you are always welcome. Our fridge is your fridge.”

“That’s it?” Betty asks.

“I’m sorry, did you expect a party? I can throw one together, but it might take a couple days,” Alice says and Jughead chuckles underneath her. “Now, Elizabeth Cooper, get off him before your father sees you like this. And this door is not to be closed when you two are alone together, I mean it.”

Betty realizes she’s been straddling Jughead and quickly is up on her feet. “I—yes, sorry,” she agrees while helping Jughead up. Alice waits for Jughead’s response too, so Betty elbows him in the gut.

“Ow, yes, ma’am,” he assures her mother while rubbing his stomach.

“And the answer for dinner?” Alice asks once more.

“If it’s not a bother, I don’t want to—”

“Jughead, you have never been, and will never be a bother. You and your sister are always welcome here,” her mom states, her tone firm, the voice she uses when she means business. “Now, I’ll trust you two to be appropriate and you can trust that I won’t be walking by this door every three to five minutes, hm?” she says before leaving with a wink.

Instantly Betty deflates. “Oh, my God,” she breathes.

“I feel like she just adopted me,” Jughead admits, the tension draining from him as well.

“Even if she just did, I don’t think sleepovers are welcome,” Betty mentions. “But dinners are, so baby steps, I guess?”

Jughead smiles, bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks again. “I don’t think they will ever willingly agree to sleepovers, babe.”

Betty grins and loops her arms around his neck. “I like when you call me ‘babe’,” she confesses while biting her lip. She gazes up into his eyes only to find he’s captivated by their mark, and keeps his iris’ trained on it like it could disappear at any moment. “I feel like the universe just gave you an open pass to stare at my boobs,” she huffs, only a little upset about it.

“Hm, what did you say?” he questions, then smiles. “I’m kidding, I heard you. Nickname usage and chest comment noted. Can we get back to what we were doing before? ‘Cause I’ve been dreaming about it for at least three years and feel like I have only gotten about three minutes of it.”

“Poor baby,” Betty teases.

“Like you don’t want to kiss me either,” he counters.

“Well, that depends. Can I officially call you my boyfriend now? ‘Cause I only kiss my boyfriend.”

Jughead rolls his eyes at her. “All you have to do is ask to hear me say it, Betts. I would love it if I could have the honor of being your first, and last, boyfriend.”

Unable to control herself Betty catapults herself at Jughead, who just hooks his arms under her legs, easily catching the sign to hold her. She pushes their lips together, her mouth in a smile, his too, but before they can continue the door bangs open once more.

Jughead instantly drops her, but keeps his hands on her hips to steady her. “Are we ever gonna get to finish doing that?” he grumbles, but Betty ignores him.

Her eyes are trained on her big sister with watering eyes at the door. “Polly,” Betty gulps and smiles faintly. “What’re you—”

“You marked?” Polly interrupts, anger clear in her stance and eyes.

“Polly, I,” Betty starts again, but Polly stomps her foot indignantly.

“This isn’t fair!” her big sister cries. “How come you get what you want but I can’t get what I want?”

“Polly, isn’t not like that. You can love someone without a mark—”

“Oh, save it. I know I love Jason, I love him, just like you love Jughead. How come I didn’t get a mark? What’s so different about me?”

Betty steps towards her sister. “Polly, I’m sorry, I—”

“Polly,” Hal appears next to her. “You are not going to ruin this for your sister.”

“But she gets everything!” Polly insists.

Betty’s sympathetic face changes into one of disbelief and anger. “I get everything? I’ve been told I’m crazy for believing in this. I’ve been told by _you_ I’m weird for it, not to mention what I’ve been putting Jughead through with everything going on his family. This did not come easy to us, so don’t act like it has.”

Polly’s face was covered in tear tracks and her whole body was shaking. “What makes your love better than mine?” she asks in a heartbreaking whisper.

“I’m sorry you’re upset, but I’m not going to let you make me feel bad about this,” Betty tells her, a hand firmly interlocked with Jughead’s.

“Pauline,” Alice is now in the doorway too. “Do not do this, not right now, not in front of your sister. Go to your room and I will meet you there. Now,” she orders with a full finger point and Polly leaves after a sharp glare. “She doesn’t mean it, Betty,” her mother insists.

“You should go talk to her,” Hal whispers and Alice nods before leaving. “Really, don’t take your sister’s words to heart, Betty, she’s hurting,” he tells her.

“I know,” Betty murmurs.

“I don’t want you to feel bad, this is a big day for you. Polly will come around in time,” Hal goes on with a soft smile. “Here, I don’t think it’s best to stick around for dinner. How about you two go to Pop’s, on me?” he says while rifling through his wallet and handing Betty a few green bills.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Betty murmurs, her mood somber now.

“Jughead,” Hal begins again with his hand out, and Jughead gets the idea to shake. “I always hoped it would turn out his way, makes things a little easier on me with all the girls in the household,” he sighs and Betty rolls her eyes at her dad’s attempt to lighten the mood. Also, it’s working. “Alright, you two be good,” he finishes with a kiss to her forehead and disappears down the hall. “And please put a real shirt on before you leave the house!”

“I feel like I walked into the Twilight Zone,” Jughead says from next to her. “We actually marked, your mom gave me a revolving door invitation, your sister is upset about _Jason Blossom_ , personally I think she lucked out there, and your dad is happy to have another guy in the family. I honestly think I’m dreaming. This shit is getting too surreal.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” Betty asks while pocketing the money, to which he shrugs, so she does.

“Hey, I didn’t mean down there!” he says in a squeaky voice as he jumps. “Geez, you’re different in the Twilight Zone too.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know yet, put a shirt on so we can get out of here before the aliens descend.”

…

“Anything for dessert, kids?” Pop Tate interrupts a couple hours later, making Jughead pull his face from her neck, where he had been nuzzling.

Betty ducks her head in embarrassment all while turning red. At least she’s consistent—she’s been some form of red all day between Jughead, her parents, and now Pop Tate.

“Yeah, our usual. Thanks, Pop,” Jughead answers with a cheeky smile.

The older man winks at them while grabbing their empty plates with a chuckle. “Sure thing, Jug.”

“Ugh, I feel like every adult knows exactly what _things_ are going through my mind today, and it’s making me far too uncomfortable,” Betty mutters, but still rests her head back on the booth with a smile playing on her lips.

“Well, I’m not an adult, so care to enlighten me about these _things,_ hm?” Jughead asks, still picking at a basket of fries that Pop Tate knows to keep continually filling for the boy, since his stomach is a never-ending pit.

“Probably the same things you’re thinking, buddy,” Betty answers, not giving him the satisfaction of saying the actual words.

“To be fair, I have a lot of time to make up for, plenty of spots to discover and see what noises you make when I kiss them, or lick them, or—”

“Jug!” Betty exclaims, her voice low. “You haven’t licked anything, so don’t act like you have, smartass.”

“We have the rest of our lives, I’m sure I’ll get around to it in a couple months to a year,” he assures her, nonchalant.

“At least you’re aware there is a timeline to follow,” Betty says and grabs onto a fist of his shirt to tug him close and kiss him quickly.

“I want you to know, it probably goes without saying, but,” Jughead stops when Pop Tate approaches.

 “Here ya go, kids,” the older man says while setting down their usual milkshakes, Betty’s vanilla and Jughead’s strawberry.

“Thanks Pop,” Betty says, and is proud she manages to not turn red again. “What were you saying?” she asks, her lips already circling the straw of the milkshake.

Jughead waits until she is done with her sip and rewraps his arm around her shoulders. “There’s all this research and crap saying soulmarks make you feel older, if you get them when you’re young, and I believe it after everything we’ve been through. When it comes to you, and how I feel about you, my feelings have always been more mature than they should have been.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you have dirty dreams about me or something?” Betty questions as he pauses.

“What, no,” Jughead responds and reaches for his milkshake now. “Well, I do have them, but that’s not what I’m trying to tell you now,” he adds on as an afterthought.

“Really? What happens in them?” Betty asks with a grin.

“We can talk about that later, and I’m pretty sure you can guess how they go, I’m trying to get at something else here,” he insists in a sigh.

“Okay, sorry,” she murmurs and presses a soft kiss against his cheek.

Jughead keeps her close, his hand moving from her shoulder to hang from her neck. “This probably goes without saying, Betty, but even though we feel older, I don’t want you to think I expect anything because of that.”

“I thought we already established we’re together and love each other and stuff?” Betty questions, complete with a head tilt.

“Betty, I’m talking about sex here,” Jughead says bluntly.

“Oh, oh, _oh,”_ she responds in know. “I know, Juggie, as we’ve done with everything else, we’ll figure it out together.”

“We do have a lot to figure out,” he agrees and Betty rolls her eyes. “What? I may be an old soul, and sensitive at that, but I am still a guy, and I have eyes, and you’re…” he stops and simply gulps while looking her up and down.

“Growing?” she offers with a knowing smile.

“Yes, and I want to know if everything is as soft as your lips,” he admits.

“Jug!” Betty squeaks and slumps down in the booth so no one can see how red she is turning. “Stop.”

“Betty, I just want you to know now,” he says with a finger hooked under her chin to make her look at him. “I am never going to be discreet about how beautiful and breathtaking you are. So you either get used to it, or be ready to blush about ninety-percent of the time.”

“I—thank you, I’m just not used to being the center of attention of anything.”

“You’ve always been the center of my attention,” Jughead states and reaches for his milkshake once more.

“Okay, does having a mark make you way more smooth, or is it just me?” Betty asks rhetorically.

“I think it’s the confidence of the mark, you know, no more doubting or worrying about losing you to someone else. I’ve always had game, I’ve just kept it hidden.”

“Juggie, I love you dearly, but please never use game like that again,” Betty tells him. “And you don’t need ‘game’ with me, you’ve already won, I’m yours, remember?” she says while undoing a button on her jean button-up to pull at the collar and show him their mark.

Just like he was the first time he saw it, Jughead is instantly mesmerized. He reaches his hand up and his fingertips brush along the crown, and she hears his sharp intake of breath.

“Hey, you still with me?” Betty murmurs, her own hand reaching up to wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah, I just—I’m still in shock, sorry,” he breathes and drops his hand, but she just moves hers down to link through his.

“It’s not going anywhere, Juggie, okay?” she whispers and presses a kiss over his shirt where their mark is. “Closer to the heart, closer the bond,” she adds on and just rests against his chest with a happy sigh.

“It’s because of you,” Jughead says into her hair. “It’s likely we would have marked no matter what—”

“We would have, shut up,” she interrupts, her words muffled against his skin.

“But I think because you knew and never let that belief go, never let _me_ go, that it’s over our hearts. We were able to become so close before all the puberty stuff that the bond is stronger.”

“You think if I wasn’t so wise that it would’ve been, like, on our butts or something?”

“I’m trying to be serious and romantic, and you’re talking about our asses?” Jughead asks and Betty pulls away laughing. “What is this?”

“The Twilight Zone, remember?”

“Right,” Jughead murmurs, his eyes trained on the mark he can still see underneath her shirt from his angle. “Betty, I—there’s something I want to ask you.” She nods while drinking more of her milkshake. “Do you think we—would you mind if,” he lets out a breath.

“You can ask me anything, Jug,” she reminds him, nothing the more somber tone.

“I don’t want to tell anyone like—we can tell our friends, and your family already knows, but I don’t want to tell my family,” he finally gets out. Betty opens her mouth to respond, but he goes on. “We just got torn apart because my mom’s mark, and I don’t want you to think I’m anything less than fucking thrilled about this, but I just think it wouldn’t help matters, if that makes sense.”

“Whatever you think is best, Juggie,” she assures him, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb sweeping across the crest of it.

“I don’t want my mom think she’s validated or I understand why she did what she did because I have one too. It’s—she cheated on my dad, blames him for everything still, and part of me feels like she regrets the last fifteen years of her life. She’s doing better, she’s not drinking, she’s there for Jellybean, and I know she loves us, but—there’s no excuse for what happened, for how it happened, and how easy it was for her to just leave it all behind. I don’t want her to think because we have this in common that her thinking was justified because of how it feels. I’ve felt this for you most of my life. It may have taken a mark for me to believe in its permanence, to embrace it, but I’ve always known how I felt. Not getting a mark wouldn’t have meant I loved you any less than I do now.”

“I know, I know,” Betty insists and presses her forehead against his. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, baby.”

Jughead shudders against her and mimics her cupping of his cheek. “And I don’t know how my dad would handle it, with how my mom marking fucked everything up. I don’t—if he really is turning his life around right now, I don’t want him to think that me marking means me leaving him like my mom did, like she made Jellybean too. I’m not ready to give up on him, Betty.”

“And I would never ask you to. Your dad has his problems, but I know he loves you and Jellybean, he loves your mom too, despite everything. We don’t have to tell them, it’s okay. I’m not upset or think you’re ashamed—”

“God, no. Fuck, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s just all still too fresh,” he cuts in.

“Stop making your case to me, I understand, I’m fine with it, okay?”

“You do know that by me not wanting my family to know means—”

“We can’t be open about it, the marks, I mean. I’m hoping that even though we’re not ready to reveal our soulmarks, we’ll still be able to be a couple?” Betty’s voice gets progressively higher as her sentence goes on.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be able to resist being like this, now that I’ve let myself really—”

“Be with me?” Betty finishes for him.

“Once you break through the wall, there’s really no going back,” Jughead agrees. “Wait, ‘we’?” he questions. “You’re not ready to tell people too?”

“It’s not that I’m not ready, I just don’t want to deal with the teenage hysteria. We start high school in less than a month, do you know how annoying teenage girls can be? I’d have to answer questions about what it’s like, how I knew all along, defend that I knew all along, is it weird that we are so young. I know I have the type of personality to snap, and I’m afraid I might kill someone.”

Jughead makes a vague nodding motion and she slaps his shoulder. “Hey, I’m agreeing. You’re tough, it’s not a bad thing.”

“But I think murder is frowned upon,” Betty points out.

“Depends who you’re talking to. Know your audience, huh?” he replies with a wink. “But you’re right, it’s a small town, word would get out, we’d be a spectacle, I’d take the fall for your crime. It’s probably best we just keep this under our hats for now.”

“Aw, you’d go to jail for me? That’s so sweet,” Betty coos.

“Man, are we lucky we found each other, we’re weird.”

“It’s best to be with someone who’s weirdness matches yours,” Kevin announces, making Betty jump and Jughead merely glare at him as he invites himself into their booth. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was supposed to meet Moose and here he walks in with half the JV football team and strolls right past me. So, naturally, I acted like I just hadn’t seen you two sitting here and made my way over after I realized my social flub.”

“Naturally,” Jughead mutters, angling himself more normal in the booth so he’s not just facing Betty.

“What has you two looking so cozy?” Kevin asks as Archie makes himself known too, and Kevin immediately scoots to make room for the red-head.

“Hey guys!” their best friend greets.

“Yeah, we weren’t in the middle of anything, no worries,” Jughead grumbles.

Betty kisses his cheek with a smile, ignoring his sudden, and understandable, mood change. “Oh, shush, Juggie.”

“Yeah, ‘shush, Juggie’,” Archie copies and steals some fries from Jug’s never-ending basket.

“Is anyone going to answer my question?” Kevin questions.

“What was your question?” Archie asks him.

“Have you ever seen these two act like this when a scary movie isn’t on the screen?” Kevin counters, to which Archie nods. “So, did something happen when you disappeared at the Drive-In. I mean, I see that something did, but I thought I should hear from my best friend rather than just talk with the rest of the town.”

“You can see it?” Betty worries and covers her heart with her hand, making a point to button up her shirt.

“B, what are you doing? That isn’t going to hide that hickey on your neck,” Kevin insists.

“I have a _hickey_?” Betty exclaims, both hands now on her neck.

“Yes, what the hell are you talking about?” Kevin demands as Betty rubs at her skin. “Left side, B—no, my left,” he instructs while pointing for clarification.

“Jughead!” Betty scolds, her voice high once again.

“What, it’s not bad, it just looks like you itched really hard,” Jughead tells her after inspected the area.

“Stop grinning like that! This isn’t funny!” she tells him, but can’t stop the corners of her mouth from sliding upwards.

“Can someone please tell poor Archie what is going on, look how confused he is!” Kevin says.

Betty and Jughead share a look and nod together. “Well, Betty got her—”

“We don’t need to go over that part,” Betty interrupts with a pointed look.  Archie, or Kevin for that matter, didn’t need to know exactly what was going on with her body. “The point is, well, we marked.”

“What!?” Kevin just about yells, but doesn’t care that he’s turning heads. “Where? When? How? Why was I not your first phone call? Aren’t I worth at least a text? Has it been since the night at the Drive-In? If so, I am sincerely angry right now. You kept this from me for three days?” he asks in quick succession.

“Kevin, calm down, it was barely three hours ago,” Jughead assures him with an eyeroll and takes his basket of fries away from Archie.

“Three hours, that’s a long time—”

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Archie cuts Kevin off. “Finally. Now that you’re a couple, I’m assuming you’re a couple, I am not going to be in the middle anymore. If you fight, I’m Switzerland and if I hang out with one of you during said fight I am not taking sides, it just means one of you has a better offer or is being less mopey.”

“Ha, that definitely means he’ll be hanging out with me,” Betty gloats.

“Who cares about Archie, where is it? What is it? Is it somewhere naughty?” Kevin asks.

“Now I know where you’re getting it,” Jughead comments with a pointed look towards Betty.

“I’ll show you, but we’re keeping it quiet, okay?” she says while staring at Kevin.

“I may be way too excited right now, but I know how to keep a secret, I’ll have you know,” he insists. “I’m actually offended you think I’d just go around telling—”

“Alright, alright, take it down a notch, Kev,” Betty insists while undoing a button on her shirt again and showing them.

Kevin stares at it for longer than Archie because of where it is, but both are equally happy for them.

“That’s so freakin’ cute, and right over the heart, I love it,” Kevin states as Betty closes the flap. “It’s perfect for the two of you.”

“Thanks, Kevin,” Betty says with a smile, she feels like she hasn’t stopped smiling since it happened, and it’s probably true.

“You guys deserve it,” Archie speaks up. “I’m happy it finally happened, that you guys can finally just be happy together instead of fighting about how much you care about each other.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” Jughead jokes and pretends to wipe a tear.

“Fuck off,” Archie responds and she can tell they are now attempting to kick one another under the table.

“Hey, unless one of the two of you want to start playing footsies with me, cut it out,” Kevin mumbles, having gotten hit in the crossfire.

“Man, some things never change,” they hear next to them and all turn.

“Dad,” Jughead says and instantly sits up straighter.

“Hey, Jug,” FP greets. “You guys mind if I steal my son real quick?” he asks the table and they all shake their heads. “I promise I’ll give him back, Betty,” he teases and walks away with a wink.

“Why do people keep winking at me today? Am I giving off a vibe?” Betty questions once they are gone.

“I don’t know, you kind of have an air of hotness going on, you’re all confident and stuff. Plus, FP definitely saw your hickey,” Kevin tells her.

“Oh, man,” Betty grumbles and covers her neck again while looking out the window at Jughead talking to FP.

She notices Jug has gotten taller when she sees him next to his father. They both have the same stance and broody face—Jughead may be more like this mother intellectually, but physically he is his father’s son. They have the same mannerisms.

“What do you think they are talking about?” Archie asks a silent minute later.

“What do you think,” Betty responds without turning to look at her friends. “FP shaved, Arch, you know what that means.”

“Jughead is going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone cry? Review your reactions! I love them!!!
> 
> and NO this story is NOT over. I have more planned. Stick with me.


	5. You Are So Fragile and Thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler, but I'm planting seeds for stuff later, so pay attention, kids ;) and who doesn't like fluff? I sure do!
> 
> As always, a big thank you to @jandjsalmon, aka Jandy, so beta-ing, making the aesthetic, listening to my ideas, and just being an all around great friend. You da bomb.com gurl. 
> 
> Next chapter is already started!! Come bother me on tumblr with some questions, on anon or not, huh? I'm a sucker for them, and encouragement goes a long way! @anactualcaseofthetruth is where you'll find me.

 

 

 

     “The rising percentage of divorces among those who have soulmarks has steadily become cause for concern to those researching the phenomenon. While previously, the statistic was as low as less than one percent, in recent years scholars place that number closer to four percent annually… While it is unknown whether this spike is due to extraneous circumstances, researchers hypothesize that it may simply be partially because of recent increased availability of resources and somewhat lifting of the social taboo that is divorce.

Do we put too much confidence in the very act of soulmarking and forget that even though soulmate relationships may be ‘meant to be,’ they still require work and may not be as ‘certain’ as we once thought?”

From _The Evolution of Understanding Soulmarks_ , 2014

*

“Juggie,” Betty says as a warning, but it comes out more like a moan. “We’re supposed to be studying,” she reminds him as his kisses continue travelling down her neck like a whisper.

“Technically, we’re supposed to be studying with Archie, and he’s not here yet,” he murmers, his lips hovering over their mark as the strain on her white button-up blouse makes it pop open.

Betty sighs with a hum and drops the book, Jughead’s not _wrong._ She threads her fingers through his hair, giving in all too easily.

Making out has become her favorite pastime, and she’s not sure she’ll ever get tired of it. In the beginning, it was just so new. It was exciting to learn what she liked, what he liked, the noises they could make; it was like unwrapping a present.

Now it’s overwhelming in an entirely different way.

Betty never gets tired of it, never.

It doesn’t matter how many times he rakes his teeth down the sensitive spot behind her ear, she always forgets how to breathe. Her organs always turn to goo when he pulls her close and cups her jawline, his thumbs sweeping over her cheeks as he says something sweet low and slow before pressing his lips to hers in a ghost of a kiss, so soft and innocent. When his arms wrap around her, his hands low on her waist, and his face buried in her neck she feels safe, yet alive at the same time.

It didn’t take a mark to make her feel this way, Betty knows, but it took the mark for Jughead to finally allow himself to be with her this way. He doesn’t have as much tension in his shoulders, he walks with ease now- it’s more of saunter, actually. Smiles reach his eyes and they happen more often.

Since they’ve marked, Jughead always has his hands on her in some way and she loves it. When they are alone it’s more risqué, but in public it might just be a hand on her lower back, or him squeezing her knee under the lunch table, but usually it’s a hand on the back of her neck or around her shoulders. His hands are rough, but soft with her, his hold firm, but never harsh, and sometimes the way he looks at her, like she’s the reason for everything good in his life, makes her feel weightless.

What they’ve found recently is that kissing each other’s mark, or in Jughead’s case teasing her mark, is… wonderful. Betty thinks of it as kind of a soul-gasm, or at least that is the best way she can describe it. She’s never had an orgasm, but if it’s anything like what Jughead’s teeth feel like against their mark then her first real one is going to be amazing.

They are only fourteen and fifteen, so she knows statistically people her age are having sex, marks or no marks, but she’s just still so overwhelmed by his hands and mouth on her extremities that she not rushing to go much farther just yet. Jughead has never pushed for anything, but she knows he feels undone when her lips touch his mark too.

They don’t need to do too much too soon. They have forever after all.

“Jug,” Betty murmurs like a plea and sucks a lip into her mouth to quiet herself. When Jughead literally sinks his teeth into the center of the mark Betty sees stars, making her entire body shudder and quake.

Then, Jughead’s lips are on hers and they’re kissing as her body shakes. Betty is gasping for air, but can’t stop kissing him. She needs the feel of his skin against hers, their lips pressed together, his hands grasping at her back.

Betty doesn’t realize that they are horizontal on Archie’s old couch in the garage until she opens her legs for him to nestle himself in between her knees.

They’ve kissed for hours before, she’s had Jughead’s hands roam all over her, his fingers even slipping under her shirt recently and touching places that aren’t their mark, but this is different. Whenever they’d kissed lying down before, it’s been on their sides, even when in her bed, or Jughead’s chest on hers as he leans over her.

This felt very unfamiliar, but in the best way.

Betty lets herself get lost in the sensations as she usually does, because Jughead has the ability to help her turn her mind off, and she loves him for it. Her own hands slip beneath this gray Henley, and she smiles against his mouth when his muscles jump under her fingertips.

“Shut up,” he murmured between kisses, making her giggle, but she doesn’t back down. His reactions make her feel powerful, sexy even, and not at all just fourteen.

Just as her nails are lightly scratching down his abdomen with Jughead moaning into her neck the door opens and instantly Jughead is off of her, a dazed look on his face.

“Oh, shit, I—” Archie immediately turns and Betty realizes her blouse is even more unbuttoned than before. “Sorry, I thought we were studying together.”

“We are! We were, uh, waiting for you,” Betty replies while fixing herself. She looks up to see Jughead shaking his head and running hands through his hair, his lost to the couch cushions long ago. She gives him a look that says ‘are you good?’ because she knows he has more of a physical aspect to calm down from.

“Well, uh, do you want me to leave or—”

“No,” Jughead cuts in and puts a book in his lap and Betty can’t help but grin to herself. He must have seen her because he shakes his head at her, a small smile on his lips too. “You can turn around, Arch, we weren’t even undressed or anything.”

“I was going to say sorry I’m late, but I think you should be thanking me,” Archie jokes while making his way over to the couch. “After all, I am your excuse to be alone without your mom hovering.”

“You’re not just an excuse, Arch, you’re our best friend,” Betty insists and fixes her ponytail out of habit.

“Yeah, um, so Algebra,” Archie starts and drops his book on the coffee table loudly. “I hate when they add letters to math. The definition of math is numbers, right?”

Betty and Jughead share a look. “You're actually trying to study and not just goofing around with me, pissing off Betty in the process? Arch, are you alright?” Jughead asks.

“Is it because you walked in on us? We’ll be better, Arch. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable—”

“It’s not you guys, Betty,” Archie quickly tells her. “I’m used to walking in on you one way or another, now I’m just averting my eyes instead of rolling them.”

“So, what’s going on, dude?” Jughead asks.

“Nothing. We should get to work. That test tomorrow is going to kill me, especially if my mom sees another D with my name on it,” Archie goes on, already getting his notebook out.

“Archie, one of the things that makes you so loveable is your utter lack of a poker face,” Jughead reminds him. “Are you alright? Why were you late? This wasn’t a couple minutes, it was like half an hour.”

“I lost track of time,” the redhead insists, shucking his letterman jacket off and throwing it over the back of the couch.

“Don’t make us beat this out of you, I’ll do it, I’m scrappy,” Betty warns, then smacks Jughead in the back of the head as he snorts. “Shut up.”

“I walked in on my parents were fighting, I guess,” Archie starts and clears his throat. “My mom got a job offer in Chicago.”

“What? You’re moving?” Betty eyes widen, her voice high.

“Betty,” Jughead grabs her hand and squeezes lightly. “Let Archie talk.”

“She did some work for this firm over the summer when she was there helping my grandma. It was a case by case thing, and my dad knew, he was fine with it, like it wasn’t a big deal. I guess it turns out that my grandma was healthy most of the summer and my mom just stayed there because of this job and they offered her a permanent position she wants to take.”

Betty feels her stomach coil. Archie couldn’t _move_. He is her next-door neighbor, the constant presence in the window across from hers, her best friend. She and Jughead may have been wrapped up in each other lately, but it didn’t mean Archie wasn’t any less their best friend than before. And she didn’t want him to think he wasn’t either.

“My dad is mad because his business is here, they grew up here, and he doesn’t want me uprooted right in the beginning of high school when I just made the football team, even if it is second string. He said Riverdale is safe, Chicago is a big city and his business wouldn’t survive there. My mom said he wasn’t thinking of her point of view, he wasn’t thinking of everything she’s given up, and that,” he stops and starts shaking his head.

Betty lets go of Jughead’s hand and scoots closer to Archie, an arm around his back for comfort. Jughead moves so he can do the same on the other side, only he leans forward and mimics Archie’s position.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Arch,” Jughead says quietly. “All parents are crazy in their own way, yours included, okay?” he tries to joke and bumps shoulders with the redhead.

“She said that marking with him derailed all her dreams and made her get stuck here because he’s stuck here,” Archie tells them, his eyes trained on the ground as his hands tighten together. “That’s when I let them know I was there, and the look on my dad’s face was, fuck, it was heartbreaking. What’s even the point of having a mark if it doesn’t—” he stops and stands. “I’m sorry, guys, this is the last thing you want to hear after everything you’ve been through.”

“Stop,” Jughead says in a hard tone. “Everyone is different, just because we’re happy about ours doesn’t mean we don’t realize other people’s relationships, even with marks, can be fucked up.”

“Yeah, Arch you don’t have to keep things from us just because we’re happy. We still care about you, you’re still our best friend, and we want to know what’s going on with you. We want to try to help."

“What happened after they knew you heard?” Jughead asks him.

Archie turns to sit on the coffee table to face them. “My mom said she didn’t mean it the way it sounded, that she loves my dad, and me, and wouldn’t change their life together, but she had dreams and she pushed them off for so long that this opportunity is too great to pass up.”

“But what about your dad and his business and—” Betty stops at Jughead’s look. “I know, I know, let him talk, sorry,” she mumbles and Jughead runs a hand up and down her back to keep her calm.

“She’s going to take the job and stay with my grandma, my dad is going to stay here and run the business, and during football season she’ll make it down as many weekends as she can. After that I’ll be going to Chicago most weekends, my dad will too if he’s not too busy, and we’ll see how it goes, I guess?”

“We’re here for you, Arch, anything you need,” Betty tells him softly and gives him a small smile.

“I know, Betty, but this just feels like giant Band-Aid on something that needs surgery, you know? I don’t want to move to Chicago, but I don’t want to feel like I’m losing my mom or holding her back either. She should be able to follow her dreams, she’s a great lawyer, this is awesome for her, I just—”

“You’re just a kid, it shouldn’t be this hard to just grow up,” Jughead says after Archie stops suddenly. “Parents are supposed to stay in one place, and be happy, and be there for you. It feels like this is your time, but it’s unfair because you know your parents have lives too. You might be the center of their universe, but you’re not the whole world.”

“What you said,” Archie agrees and they all laugh. “I’m sorry, Jug, this is small compared to what you went through, still go through—”

“Archie, stop,” Betty chides. “We all have our issues, just because it might not seem bigger than someone else’s doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal to you. You’re allowed to feel pain even if someone else is feeling another kind.”

“Jesus, you two should start some kind of therapy, I swear,” Archie says and wipes his eyes. “I guess we are just going to have to wait and see how everything goes, what works and what doesn’t. It just seems like…” he trails off and sighs while rubbing his eyes. “I’ve watched my two best friends’ hearts break over soulmarks time and time again, and it seems like my parents might just be throwing theirs away. How can something so important bring two people so close together, and two other people can just toss it aside like it doesn’t matter?”

“Jughead and I are weird,” Betty tells him. “Our relationship hasn’t been normal since the beginning, and you shouldn’t compare anyone’s relationship because everyone is different and needs different things.”

“And I don’t think they are giving up on their relationship at all either,” Jughead agrees. “I think they are just trying to find a solution that works for everyone.”

“But I don’t think this is going to work for everyone. They are trying to make it work for me when they should be thinking what works for them.”

“You are their priority, Arch,” Betty reminds him. “You may be fifteen and mostly raised, but you’re still their child and you are what matters most.”

“Try and do what they are doing. See what works with the plan they came up with and adjust from there. When or if that stops working, and only then, start to worry. But you do have us, Arch, and with our combined family drama I think you have a pretty good support system.”

“Definitely,” Betty seconds and gives her best Cooper smile. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that just because we’re together now and having fun with that ourselves, that we don’t have time for you or still care about you as much as we did before.”

“I’m not a stray dog, Betty, you don’t have to shower me with love until I trust you to stick around. I know you’re here, and I don’t care that you and Jug have been spending so much time together. I have my own stuff going on with football and guitar lessons that having Jughead off my back is a relief,” Archie teases, finally sounding a bit like himself again.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Jughead says and leans back on the couch. “Moment over, you’re a dick.”

“Alright, before you two get into a fight over who has the bigger insult, how about we forget about studying and go to Pop’s?” Betty suggests and is already standing.

“You want to skip studying for food?” Archie asks, surprise apparent in his voice.

“Don’t question it, let’s go,” Jughead says in a rush while reaching for their coats and when it makes Archie laugh, it’s full and hearty.

Betty tries to take her jacket from Jughead, but he holds it open for her and she turns around to put her arms through the sleeves. “He’s going to okay, we’ll make sure of it,” he promises lowly in her ear and Betty nods while taking his arm to go towards the door where Archie is already waiting.

“I think I’m going to get two cheeseburgers, double fist it, you know?” Archie says as they walk out and Jughead pats him on the back with his fingerless gloved hand.

“These are the kind of decisions I’ll always support, for anything harder than this please direct your problems to Betty,” Jughead jokes and Archie laughs again.

Betty smiles against Jughead’s arm, where she’s leaned her head in an attempt to keep some body heat. She knows Jughead is trying to make Archie laugh on purpose and she appreciates it because all she can think about is how she didn’t notice Archie was struggling before.

He is their best friend. She should have known. She should be better than this.

…

Ever since Betty marked with Jughead, she’d been sleeping better than she ever had before.

It helps that Jughead sneaks into her room significantly more often because now they know it’s something theywill never have to give up, along with the fact that he doesn’t live with Jellybean anymore to worry about what happens if she wakes up and needs him.

But she also knows the reason she is sleeping better is because her biggest problem is now a non-issue.

Logically, she knows soulmate couplings are not the end all, be all statistically. After all, she had planned on fighting to be with Jughead without a mark, so she isn’t going to judge someone for wanting to be with someone they haven’t marked with, or judge them for not wanting to be with the person they did.

She supports her sister being with Jason without a mark, even if Polly still does have hard feelings about her making with Jughead. She supports Jughead’s mom being with the person she marked with, but is not okay with how she went about being with him, and how she did what she wanted—how she always does what she wants—without thinking of her children first.

Because of this, she even has to support Fred and Mary because Archie’s mom does deserve to follow her dreams in some respect, and she knows that Mary does love Archie and has always put him first as a mother should do. Betty hopes this plan they’ve thought up will work, that Archie will adjust as painlessly as possible to his mother not being in the house, that Fred too will be okay with Mary being gone, and that Mary is making the right choice.

Betty just wishes this wasn’t hurting her best friend. She wishes she had seen this coming and could have done something to help or make it easier on Archie.

Archie’s parents broke the news after their last day of school for Christmas vacation that Mary’s plan to move wouldn’t happen until the new year, so they would still have the holidays to be together.

She’s been having trouble sleeping ever since finding all of this out.

Now that they were a few days into their vacation, her red-haired friend has been trying to keep his spirits up, but it’s easy to see he’s struggling. His mom is being overly-cheerful, feeling guilty for moving away from her only son and leaving her husband behind too. She’s been baking some kind of goodie for him every day in some sort of peace offering. While Jughead has certainly been reaping the benefits of all the extra baking, Betty can see the strain in Archie’s eyes, the way his smile isn’t as genuine.

It’s not just Archie, either.

This is Jughead’s first holiday season with his parents in different households, with his sister not jumping on him at 6am to open presents. He’s thinking of sleeping over Billy’s to be with Jellybean and his mom Christmas morning, but doesn’t want to leave his dad alone either. They’d agreed to do Christmas for his dad on Christmas Eve, and then Christmas with his mom on the actual day, but Jughead worries what his dad will do all day alone on the holiday. He’s confided this to her in bed late at night, his lips scratching at her neck, chapped and swollen from their kisses.

It’s Kevin’s first Christmas without his mom too. Last year, his mom had been sick, terminal even, but it still isn’t the same with her being gone now. It had been hard on Kevin last year too, but he had been strong for his mom and had tried to make the best of things for her. Betty’s heart clenches thinking of Kevin and his dad sitting at their table with TV dinners in front of them. Neither of them are the best cooks—that was all Kevin’s mom, and last year she’d been propped up in the kitchen giving orders to the boys. This year it’s just them. Kevin told her he doesn’t know if he has it in him to pretend this year or whether making the dinner with his dad will be soothing or torture.

And here’s Betty, her parents still together, mostly happy, planning for their always amazing Christmas feast, and secretly wrapping the mountains of presents her and Polly always receive. Betty knows she’s so, so lucky, for multiple reasons, but feels so guilty when it just seems like her friends’ lives are falling apart around her and there is nothing she can do about it.

Sure, her mom is particularly hard on her when it comes to school, her parents care too much about their familial image, her sister still has ill-feelings towards her about her soulmark, and she feels general pressure about being the perfect picture everyone sees when they look at her, but compared to what her friends are going through, Betty couldn’t help but feel like a fraud.

Betty doesn’t have _real_ problems, not like them anyway, and sometimes late at night she finds herself making a fist out of her comforter to resist the urge to curl her nails in on her palms, asking the universe why the people she loves never seem to catch a break, why she can’t take away their pain because they don’t deserve any of it.

She sits up in bed, her eyes squeezed shut as she breathes in and out evenly, counting the heartbeats reverberating in her chest, trying to calm herself down as the comforter bunches in her hand.

The familiar feeling of dread trickles down her spine and Betty sucks her bottom lip in to bite.

She hasn’t had a panic attack in a while and was proud of herself because of that, but her streak is over.

With shaky hands that she’s consciously keeping from curling, Betty grips her phone and dials the number she’s known by heart since he got it, the jingle of numbers giving her some comfort because it’s a connection to her soulmate.

“Hm—ello,” Jughead answers hoarsely and immediately she feels bad because he was sleeping, of course he was, it’s 2am.

“I’m sorry,” Betty says instantly, her voice only a tad higher than a whisper.

“Shh, what’s up, baby?” he asks, ignoring her apology, his way of saying it wasn’t even necessary.

“I—Juggie,” is all she says before her voice cuts out. She hates that she’s asking him for help when it should be the other way around.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay? I’m already getting dressed,” he tells her, and she can hear the clothes rustling on his end.

“You don’t—it’s freezing, I don’t want you to—”

“Betty, you’re not convincing me otherwise, I’m walking out the door in a second. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you? I can, it just might take me longer to get there only having one hand to balance.”

“No, I—be safe, please,” she whispers, already blinking to keep the tears at bay.

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can, just hold on for me, can you do that?”

“Yes,” she answers, nodding her head frantically despite the fact that he can’t see her, and trying to sound strong for him.

“I love you, but I gotta go, I’m already on my bike, okay?”

“Love you too,” Betty whispers and waits for the line to go dead before lowering the phone.

She goes to the window seat to wait and tries to keep breathing normally, makes sure to keep a blanket between her fingers, and counts the seconds in her head to pass the time.

Betty does her best to ignore the guilt eating at her thinking of Jughead out in the freezing cold on his way to her house. Then she starts to worry about him biking over in the dark, with ice on the streets, cars going by, and about how he starts out in the Southside—not the safest place to be wandering out about late at night.

She's chewing on her lip, the pain of chapped lips keeping her grounded as she stares out the window, anxiously darting her eyes back and forth, looking for Jughead on the street, and listening for the familiar thump of him on the porch.

Betty doesn’t see him coming, or hear is ascent, but is ready when he appears outside the glass all the same. “Juggie, you’re okay,” she breathes and pulls him into her room none too gently.

“What? Of course, I’m okay, are you okay?” he questions as she burrows into his Sherpa jacket. “Betts, I’m freezing, I don’t want to get you cold, you should let me warm up a little,” he mentions while nudging her away.

Betty just pushes his jacket off and presses her body into his, wanting both comfort and to warm him up. “I don’t care, I just—want you,” she admits, her face buried against their mark.

“I’m right here, baby,” he murmurs into her neck and picks her up underneath her bum to carry her to the bed. Betty’s legs wrap around his waist and locks her arms along his shoulders. He sits down, her in his lap and pulls away just enough to look her in the eye. “What’s going on, Betts?”

Betty rubs her nose against his, the tip of hers a contrast to the cool of his. “I couldn’t sleep, started overthinking. I’m sorry you had to come all the way here—”

“Shhh,” he interrupts and brings her hands from behind his neck to between them, and opens them up to inspect.

“I didn’t,” she tells him as he grazes his fingertips over her scars, and she is telling the truth. “I wanted to, but…” she trails off and sighs. “I wanted you more.”

As he always does when they are talking about her hands, Jughead brings her palms to his mouth and kisses each mark with a gentleness, yet intensity that makes Betty’s heart swell. “I’m proud of you.”

“What?” Betty asks, astonishment apparent in her voice.

Jughead brings her hands together in one of his and rests them on his heart. “I’m proud of you, Betty,” he repeats. “I’m not naïve enough to think that just because we marked all your anxiety and worries go away, but I do hope that I help manage them with you,” he goes on, to which she nods. “But you haven’t had a full-on panic attack in a while, at least that I know of, and when you felt one coming you called me. That takes a lot of strength, and I’m proud of you.”

“You think it makes me strong?” Betty asks quietly, so low it’s barely audible, her head tilted down as to not look him in the eye.

“I think you’re unbelievably strong, Betty,” Jughead insists and uses his free hand to tilt her face up towards his. “Having panic attacks doesn’t make you weak, please don’t think it does.”

Betty sniffles and presses her lips together to keep from letting out a sob.

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” Jughead urges, and brings Betty to lie down with him, kicking his shoes off as he went. She stays on top of him, burrowed into his chest, and tries to keep the tears down. “Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

“It’s almost Christmas and Archie’s family is falling apart. He’s trying to hide that it’s hurting him, but I can see that it is, and I can’t do anything about it,” she tells him. “Kevin’s dreading Christmas because it’s the first one without his mom. He’s struggling with it so much, but hates talking about it because it just makes him even sadder. It’s your first Christmas with your parents divorced, with Jellybean not in the same house as you, and I know you’re coping well, because honestly, you’ve dealt with worse, but I hate it. I hate that you have to deal with this, I hate that it’s not the worst thing you’ve been through. I hate that I can’t help any of you. I hate that Polly can’t stand to see our mark, that if I’m wearing a shirt that shows it when I’m at home she won’t even stay in the same room as me. I hate that Polly is my biggest problem, because it’s so small compared to what you guys are going through. It’s not fair—”

“Hey,” Jughead murmurs and shifts so he’s leaning against her headboard a bit, and keeps his hands moving up and down her spine soothingly.

Betty keeps her face buried in his neck, tears trickling from her eyes.

“Betty, you are the kindest, best, most thoughtful person I know,” he says against the crown of her head. “And I think because of that you take on everyone’s problems on as your own. You care so much, and that’s amazing. You always want to be there for anyone in need, you would do anything for someone you love, and these are things about you I love, I really do, but Betty, it’s not your job to save anyone besides yourself.”

“But I want to help, I want to—”

“When have you ever not helped? When Archie broke his arm when we were kids you did everything for him. You opened things for him, made sure no one bumped into his cast on accident, helped him write with his other hand, and fuck that was a disaster,” Jughead goes on and Betty hides her smile against his collarbone. “The guy has chicken scratch with the hand he is supposed to write with, but with the other one? I still think half the reason he passed that year is because our teacher just gave up trying to decipher what he was writing.”

“Jughead,” Betty chides.

“I remember the first time a girl Archie had a crush on told him to buzz off, we were like seven, and he kept giving her weird gifts. Dandelions he picked at recess, the cookies his mom packed in his lunch, a creepy picture he drew of them hugging but it looked like he was choking her,” Jughead stopped to chuckle. “I think her name was Tiffany, and she balled up that picture and threw it at him during free time in class, and he almost cried. You marched right up to her, pigtails bobbing, and asked what made her so perfect, told her it wasn’t nice to be rude to people trying so hard to get her attention, and ripped the bag of cookies from her hand and gave them back to Archie to make him feel better.”

“I remember she moved away shortly after that, and you and Archie teased me saying that she was so scared of me that she went into the witness protection program,” Betty mumbles, and enjoys the feeling of Jughead’s chest rumbling beneath her own.

“You almost cried, I felt so bad.”

“I know, you instantly started wanting to do everything for me, trying to make it up to me, and even said you’d give me your beanie.”

“My first act of true love,” he sighs dramatically, making Betty hide another smile. “You’ve always stuck up for other people, Betty, Archie, Kevin, and me especially. Kevin’s always been teased for being so, well, Kevin, but when Reggie started really picking on him in middle school, I remember you getting into bickering matches with him every day. You did everything you could to keep Reggie’s attention off Kevin, even if it meant Reggie started teasing you instead. When Kevin’s mom died you made him and his dad dinner for over two weeks, preparing lasagnas and casseroles and whatever else you could freeze for a couple days. During the funeral you barely left Kevin’s side, you stayed after the wake to help clean up and even slept over whenever possible. It wasn’t until Kevin literally kicked you out that you let yourself relax.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Do you remember the time Jellybean came home from school upset because some girl made fun of her clothes ‘cause all my parents could afford was the second-hand store and even altered my old clothes to fit her? You had her come over your house, go through all of your and Polly’s old clothes, did some girly makeover, even convinced her to cut her hair, and gave her some talk about how material things aren’t what matters, it’s how she feels about herself, and that she’s comfortable in her own skin. She came home and told me how much she loved you, how thankful she is to have you in her life. You have no idea how much that meant to her, Betts, how much it meant to me that you did it for her, without even a second thought.”

“Anyone would have done it,” Betty insists.

“No, Betty, that isn’t what anyone would have done,” Jughead assures her, nosing her forehead so she looks up at him. “You do whatever you can to make things easier on other people, not everyone has that trait. I won’t even start in on everything you’ve done for me, because you know exactly how much you do, and you never stop. You never stop telling me how much I’m worth, how much better you think I deserve. You’ve done more for me than anyone in the world, Betty. You’re probably the reason I’m not getting into trouble on the Southside, acting out against my parents and society. I don’t even want to think where I would be without you, because I know I wouldn’t be in this bedroom, holding the girl I love, and fuck, I don’t ever want the thought of that life in my head.”

“Me neither,” she sniffles and kisses at his jawline.

“I told you, Betts, it’s not your job to save everyone, not even me, even though I’ll never be able to convince you otherwise. All you have to do is be you, be the amazing person and friend you are, and that’s enough, trust me. You have no idea how much the little things you do mean to the people you love. You help, you do more than anyone, never think differently.”

Betty shuffles to sit up a bit more and slips her fingers under Jughead’s shirt to feel the skin underneath. “It all just feels so unfair, that all these things are happening to you guys and my life—”

“You have your own struggles, Betty, case in point what is going on right now,” Jughead interrupts. “No one knows you deal with panic attacks or what was going on with your hands besides me, and this is a big thing, it’s not small. Do you think me coming over here, and talking to you, holding you, helps?”

“Yes,” Betty says quickly with her head nodding. “It does, so much, Juggie. I didn’t even have a full-on panic attack tonight because I called you and was able to focus on something else. I was able to focus on you coming over, knowing I would be in your arms soon.”

“Exactly. You think I don’t feel helpless when this happens to you? I wish I could get inside your head and make you see how wonderful you are, and how big the small things feel, just like this does to you.”

“I never… saw it that way,” Betty admits, her nails lightly scratching up and down his abdomen. “That the small things can seem big, like how much you coming here means to me, but could seem small to you.”

“I never want you to feel like you don’t help, you’re the best friend anyone could ask for,” he says while running fingers through her hair.

“So are you,” she murmurs.

“We’re talking about you,” Jughead counters as Betty sits up more so they are at the same level.

“I’m talking about you,” she whispers and grazes her lips along his before kissing him softly. “Thank you for… everything you do.”

“I want you to remember what it was you said to Archie the other day when he told us about his parents. He said sorry for making an off-hand comment about my parents and you told him that we all have our problems, and that we’d be there for him. The same sentiment goes for you. We all have our issues, babe, yourself included. The only one telling you that your problems aren’t worth it is you, and it’s not true.”

“I love you,” Betty murmurs in response and kisses him again.

“Okay, I’m feeling ignored,” Jughead states and smiles when he makes her giggle a little.

“You? I said thank you and I love you with no acknowledgement,” she counters.

“I was in the middle of a pep talk, I didn’t want to break character, it’s usually you giving me these. I was a little worried about the execution, especially with you blatantly ignoring me and trying to seduce me there at the end,” Jughead insists.

“Blatantly ignoring you? I was appreciating you,” Betty tells him. “And I know what you’re doing,” she adds on with eyes in slits.

“You do, do you?”

“Mhm, trying to turn the serious into flirty banter to improve my mood and keep my mind off, you know, before,” she says.

“Is it working?”

“Definitely, but I don’t think I have the ability to seduce anyone,” she tells him honestly.

“I don’t want you to seduce anyone ever, just me, and trust me, babe, you have the ability,” he replies with a knowing look.

“Sorry,” she says and stills her hand.

“No, don’t stop,” he whispers and leans his forehead on hers. “But we should get some sleep.”

At that, Betty suddenly feels how heavy her eyes are, how lethargic her body has become. “We have to get rest for our special 'kids' Christmas party tonight,” she says in a yawn.

Jughead shuffles down so they are lying on the bed and wraps his arms around her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Oh yeah, a party in Archie's garage, decorated with too much tinsel and glitter by you and Kevin," he mutters.

"Shush, or I will keep a small pile of glitter to throw on you," Betty warns and Jughead simply kisses her hair in defeat. “Juggie, take your jeans off, they’re scratchy,” she insists in a groan, rolling off him so he can do so. They’d slept together plenty times before, and she’s made the same complaint time and time again.

“So bossy,” Jughead mutters as he kicks them off and sets his phone her nightstand, making sure to set an alarm so he can sneak out before her parents wake up.

“Assertive,” Betty corrects and smiles a little as he drops his hat on top of his phone. “Juggie,” she starts as he settles next to her, one arm underneath her pillow, the other draped over her waist.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs, the hand poking out from under the pillow playing with the ends of her hair.

“You know how good it feels when we touch each other’s marks? Like, intimately?”

“I recall some noises you made the other day,” he answers with a sly grin.

“Shush, do you ever wonder what it would feel like if our marks touched?” she questions, her voice low and slow.

“You mean… chest to chest?”

“Mhm,” Betty whispers, licking her lips without realizing it.

“Betty, I,” Jughead starts and sits up on an elbow. “I don’t think that I would be able to not…” he trails off and she sees red climbing up his neck.

“I know you’d get excited, Jug, but it is something I want to try if and when you want to,” she admits.

“If? Betty, of course I want to touch you… like that, in more ways than that, but—”

“I know you’re not pushing for anything, Jug, but we’ve been just making out for four months, I think we can explore a little, you know?” she says, then speaks up again when he answers with silence. “I think this would be a nice… introduction to it, something innocent, yet not.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m not respectful if I look, or stare. I’m definitely going to have the urge to stare, then touch, and,” he stops to gulp, then scoots his hips away from her.

“No, Jug,” Betty hooks a leg around his to keep him close. “I don’t want us to be shy about this. You don’t have to hide anything from me, I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to. I just don’t want to hurt you if we do this,” she admits.

“Uh, Betts, it doesn’t really work like that,” he tells her, trying not to chuckle.

“Shut up, I don’t expect you to know the in’s and outs of a vagina, so don’t think I read up on the do’s and don’ts of boners either,” Betty says and they both burst out laughing, but try to keep it quiet. Thankfully, her parent’s bedroom is on the other end of the house.

“It really shouldn’t hurt unless you have one for hours,” Jughead explains.

“Have you?” Betty questions, her eyes wide and her smile matching.

“Back when I first started getting them and didn’t know exactly what to do, now I’ve got it under control, for the most part,” he answers honestly. “Around you it tends to act up, literally.”

“So, do you want to?” Betty asks, and Jughead simply stares. “Touch marks? And go to sleep like that?”

“Of course I want to, but if you get uncomfortable or—”

“I know, I’m not afraid to speak up around you, Juggie, I swear.”

In response Jughead simply sits up and shrugs his shirt off, only to reveal a wife beater underneath, but he quickly rids himself of that too.

Betty has seen him shirtless before, of course, but every time she sees their mark on his naked chest it takes her breath away. She leans forward and kisses the crown over his heart, and his hand threads through her hair.

“You don’t have to, Betts, it can be just me—”

“Shush, Jug, it was my idea,” she cuts him off, and even though she’s nervous, even though there’s a voice in the back of her head that sounds like her mother saying she’s too young, and another voice that has the cackle of Cheryl Blossom teasing her for being ‘small’, Betty pushes it all aside and lifts her shirt over her head.

Her eyes avoid Jughead’s, her face in flames, and resists the urge to cover herself.

After a long minute Jughead hooks a finger under her chin to make her look at him. He looks at her with soft eyes and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “You’re beautiful, Betts, fucking incredible,” he whispers.

“I—I want to feel your mark on mine,” she almost pleads, to which he nods and lays back down, his eyes flicking between hers, their mark, and a little further south, but Betty doesn’t mind.

Betty gets on her knees and swings a leg over his hips so she’s straddling him, and feels his length against her bum, but welcomes the feeling rather than be embarrassed by it. If he’s okay, then she’s okay.

Jughead’s hands tighten on her thighs, and she’s reminded all that is between them is her short-shorts, and their underwear. “Take your hair down,” he lets out in a low, guttural tone that makes her stomach coil.

Betty does as he asks without hesitation, and her hair fans out around her, the ends tickling her shoulders. She sees Jughead’s quick intake of breath and begins her descent down to him, a hand on either side of his head.

“I love you,” Better whispers with a kiss so soft it’s barely there and Jughead’s hands travel up her spine, pushing her chest down to his, and Betty lets out a gasp into his neck.

Betty doesn’t know how to describe the feeling. It’s like her mark is the epicenter of an earthquake, pulsating pleasure through her body with each beat. She knows she’s making noises, quiet squeaky pants, and Jughead is breathing heavy in her ear, but saying nothing all the same.

They don’t do much besides lay there together, marks touching, chests heaving, and hands doing whatever possible to sooth the other.

And _this,_ Betty thinks, this has to be what an orgasm feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?
> 
> hang around for Jandy, she'll review the aesthetic! I like to let her do it since she made it, she deserves all the credit.


	6. Spring Keeps You Ever Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Sorry it's late, it was my birthday (I got a tattoo!) and I had plans with friends, and an extended two-day sleepover, plus work, and my beta has a life so there were multiple delays that could not be avoided. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are my muse, also anons are always welcome!
> 
> Of course, always a thank you goes out to @jandjsalmon for beta-ing and making the aesthetic and putting up with me.

     “Historically, soulmarking was an instantaneous sign of marriage, immediately putting preparations for marriage underway…

Today, this obviously isn’t the case, but those who mark at a young age are more likely to have sex and enter into marriage before those who don’t mark at all or mark later… Teenage pregnancies among those who are marked are higher than those who are not, but this is not unusual, as it has always been this way. Scientists suggest it is evolutions way of propagating natural babies versus unnatural.”

From _Sex, Marriage, and Markings,_ 2010

*

“Mom, we agreed this was my decision.”

Alice sets her coffee cup down so hard Betty thinks it might crack. “Yes, that was when I thought you were going to make the right decision. Instead, you’re letting your hormones take over.”

“Even if I am, it’s my decision to do so,” Betty tells her while making sure to perfectly place the cookies she made into the Tupperware container so the icing wouldn’t smudge.

“Betty,” Alice begins again.

“Mom, _I_ have to submit a portfolio of my work. _I_ have to write an essay about why I think the internship is right for me. _I_ have to get recommendations. Me, not you. I’m only fourteen, I don’t know if this is even something I want to do and you already have me on a train halfway there.”

“Alice, if she feels uncomfortable going we really shouldn’t make her,” her father speaks up and Betty waves a hand in his direction.

“Yes, thank you! See?”

“No, Hal, Betty isn’t not considering this because she doesn’t feel comfortable. She’s not considering it because of Jughead, isn’t that true, Elizabeth?” her mom counters. When Betty doesn’t answer, she goes on. “Betty, do you have any idea how amazing this opportunity is? You have the change to be part of the Early Start Program, where you’ll shadow people at big newspapers, publishing houses, even meet authors and famous reporters. When I was your age I would have killed for this.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Hal mumbles into his coffee cup, the Riverdale Register in his hands.

“Hal,” Alice says in a warning tone that makes Betty want to giggle, but she refrains. “Betty, you have the chance to organize release parties, follow along with true reporters hitting the streets, see so much more than we can offer you at the Register. Out of thousands of applicants they narrowed it down and want you show them why they should pick you.”

“Mom, you submitted my name and resume to the program, you made my decision from the very beginning. This I am doing to decide, and you can’t change that.”

“Sweetie, if you don’t get on this now you’ll miss the deadline and then the decision will be made for you regardless. Don’t pass this up to get back at me or because of Jughead. It’s one summer, Betty, not even, only eight weeks, and if you two can’t survive eight weeks with marks when you could do it for ten years without—”

“Okay, okay, Mom, I hear you,” Betty interrupts while snapping the plastic container shut. “I see what kind of opportunity this is, I’m not totally blind, I just—I only have so long to be a kid. For so much of my childhood I felt like I was wrestling something so adult, with the marks and Jughead, and—and now it’s calmed down I just want to enjoy it. I have forever to be an adult once I graduate, I don’t want to rush it.”

Alice’s face softens and she approaches Betty, her arms open for a hug. “I understand, sweetie, but—you’re not a kid anymore, and I know you’re not an adult either, but you do have to look to the future. You can do this internship program and get ahead and still be a teenager, it’s all about balance.”

“Balance, Mom? Between being on the dance committee, the Blue and Gold, tutoring, and doing stuff for you guys at the Register for ‘real experience’ I barely have time to be a teenager _now_ , and you want to add more on my plate?”

“Yes, I do, because you’re smart, you’re driven, you have talent, and I believe in you. I only want what’s best for you, and I’m never going to stop. So please think about it? The deadline is next Monday, if you decide too late the work you submit will be sub-par, and we don’t want that.”

“Of course we wouldn’t,” Betty agrees the Cooper way, and her mom can tell, her dad too, because he chuckles from his seat.

“Elizabeth,” her mom says in a warning tone, her cup of coffee at her mouth.

“Dad, can we get going? Remember, Jellybean’s party for the family is earlier than usual because she’s having a sleepover tonight,” Betty says while placing her sweets in a cloth bag delicately.

“And you’ll be back around five to get ready for your big date, right?” her mom questions.

“Yes, I will, and it’s not a big date, it’s just Valentine’s Day,” she responds.

“Sweetie, there is no such thing as ‘just Valentine’s Day’ when you’re in a relationship. Take it from me, mark or no mark, it matters. I learned that one the hard way,” her dad says as he stands, the car keys swinging from his finger.

“Bye, Mom,” Betty calls over her shoulder, following her father out the door.

“Tell Jellybean we said happy birthday! And don’t forget to give her the card!” Alice yells after her.

“I will, and I won’t!” Betty shouts back before the door slams behind her.

“She just wants what is best for you,” Hal says as the car beeps in front of them.

“I know, but—she makes so many of the important decisions in my life. This one is truly up to me, and I want to make sure I’m the one that makes it.”

“Fair enough,” her father sighs. “Hey, did you leave any cookies at home? Just wondering.”

“They are on top of the fridge, so get to them before Mom does, or you’ll never find them.”

“Will do.”

Later, Betty smiles as Jellybean tears into the gift she had wrapped perfectly that morning, complete with a hand-tied bow at the top. Jellybean isn’t the most material girl, but Betty is sure she’ll like her gift.

“JB, show a little restraint, will you?” Jughead teases from next to her with an arm slung around Betty’s shoulders, a burgundy sweater adorning his chest, and Betty definitely likes the way it looks on him. He’s been ‘weight training’ with Archie a bit and she’s been enjoying the benefits.

“Blue hair dye!” Jellybean explodes a moment later, ignoring her big brother entirely.

“Temporary blue hair dye,” Betty corrects as the now ten-year-old throws herself at her in the hug. “I talked it over with your parents, they said it was okay to do once summer starts because the school’s rules won’t allow it. It should be just about washed-out by the time school starts back up.”

“It’s so awesome!” Jellybean continues to speak in a high-pitch and is looking at the box like it contains gold. Ever since Betty had used the blue hairspray on her years ago, Jellybean was obsessed with having blue hair. “Thank you so much, Betty!”

Betty hugs her once more. “No problem, I’ll even help you do it once school lets out.”

“I can’t wait!”

“My parents also sent this,” she says and offers the card her parents bought.

“Cool, a Visa gift card! Do you know how much pizza I can buy with fifty-dollars?” Jellybean asks the room, and is awarded with laughter.

“Maybe you should think about something a little more useful than pizza,” Billy, her mother’s now-fiancé, suggests.

“More useful than pizza?” Jellybean questions. “It’s like you don’t understand me at all.”

“Hey, let _them_ buy you pizza, buy something you can enjoy more than once, like more blue hair dye to fight the system once school is back in session,” Jughead says with a wink, and Jellybean mimics the action back at him.

“Or, a really good book?” Betty offers, to which both Jones children roll her eyes at. “Oh, act like you don’t read, Jughead Jones, or steal my books,” she adds on.

Jughead grins and pulls her closer to kiss her on the cheek. “Just spend it wisely, JB, and if you are getting pizza make sure it’s a night I’m eating over.”

“Who says I’m sharing?” she responds and sticks her tongue out.

“Brat.”

“Butthead.”

“As stimulating as this conversation is, I have another gift. My usual,” Betty announces and moves out from under Jughead’s arm to the cloth sac she brought with her.

“Betts, you really don’t have to do this every year—”

“Hey, you decide how you like your birthday, I decide how I like mine, and it’s not a birthday without Betty baking something,” Jellybean cuts in while flouncing over to her brother’s girlfriend.

“Your usual heart cookies with pink icing,” Betty says while handing over the first Tupperware container. “And because I got in a real baking mood, a Reese’s Pieces cookie cake,” she adds on and hands it over. “To share with your friends or keep secret, it’s up to you.”

Jellybean puts both down as Jughead goes into the kitchen to get the real cake with their mom and Billy. “Thank you so much, Betty,” Jellybean says softly with a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“You’re going to miss me?”

Jellybean nods and blinks repeatedly. “Of course, I am, Mom keeps saying Toledo will be fun, but Riverdale is home,” she whispers. “I get why she wants to get out of town after everything with her and Dad, but—it’s not fair, you know? And she doesn’t even know about you and Jughead, so it’s—it’s just not fair.”

Betty’s heart drops, it falls so hard she’s not sure it’s even in her body anymore, but she hugs Jellybean back with something fierce while blinking her own tears away. “It’s not—distance doesn’t mean anything, Bean, you’re my sister and you always will be, okay? I’m just a phone call or a text away, always.”

They were moving? Was Jughead going too? Betty can’t imagine he’d ever leave Jellybean like that, or that he’d let her leave him. But the thought of him not living in the same town, the same state, makes Betty want to throw up. She starts breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth to calm her stomach down.

“I know, and there’s Skype and stuff, it just sucks. Mom and Billy are trying to soften me up with gifts and this big sleepover and reminding me that they are waiting for me to finish off the school year to make it easier on me. Sometimes, though, I feel like every time every time the dust settles around me it’s time to make a big change again. I—” Jellybean stops and looks at her mom, brother, and almost-stepfather lighting her small family cake in the kitchen. There is a bigger one for the sleepover tonight, of course. “I feel guilty because I like living here with Mom and Billy. It’s—the electricity has never been turned off, I don’t have to lie when guys in suits come to the door anymore, actually no one comes to the door asking for my parents anymore. I only see my dad on the weekends, but we have fun. He’s always been better at the fun than the actual parenting stuff, so it works for us.”

“What’re,” Betty clears her throat. “What’s your dad gonna do when you move?” she asks quietly.

“It’s not finalized yet, but he gets me every other major holiday, half the summer, and we’ll do weird weekend trips once in a while. I feel bad for leaving him, but—it’s not like I have a real choice, and I can’t say if I did that I’d do things differently. I don’t think I can go through all the crap again, you know, and I didn’t even know most of what was going on because of Juggie.”

“Don’t—don’t feel guilty, Bean, you have a right to your feelings, as long as you’re happy I’m sure your dad and brother will feel the same,” Betty assures her.

“And I—” Jellybean looks in the kitchen again, where apparently something is going on with the cake because they haven’t come out with it yet. “I haven’t told anyone this yet, but,” she stops and looks Betty in the eye. “I like living with mom and Billy, he makes her so happy and she hasn’t even thought about drinking in months, or at least that is what she says. I—I know he’s not my dad, but he loves me, he takes care of me and Mom, he even tries to take care of Jug, not that he makes it easy.”

“That’s the truth,” Betty mutters under her breath, to which JB laughs.

“I haven’t told him, but I love Billy too. He’s… he’s never tried to be my dad, and he’ll never replace my dad, but I think he’ll be a cool stepdad, he’s not doing bad so far.”

Betty squeezes her little sister’s shoulders in a half-hug. “You don’t have to feel guilty about that either, Bean, and I think you should tell him how you feel, and your brother too. Jug worries about you so much, it’ll do him good to know you’re happy and not completely traumatized by everything that’s happened in the last year.”

“I will,” Jellybean promises just as they finally come out of the kitchen with the cake.

Betty joins in the ‘Happy Birthday’ song with the rest and watches as Jellybean squeezes her eyes tight before blowing the candles out. Betty’s never seen her look so young, especially after the very mature conversation they just had. But, Betty supposes that Jellybean has every right to feel ten years old, Jughead made sure she kept some innocence while his was robbed at a much younger age.

After the cake is cut, a laugh is shared about the cake saying ‘Jolene’ instead of ‘Jellybean’, and all the polite small talk is made, Betty finds herself outside alone and trying to breathe.

It’s chilly and she’s only wearing a pink sweater and gray plaid skirt, matched with gray suede ankle boots and her hair up in its usual ponytail, but she doesn’t care. She’s not sure she even feels the cold, thinks her teeth are chattering and she can’t stop shaking from something else entirely.

Betty doesn’t want Jughead to move, not at all, but she can’t blame him. Jellybean is one of the most important people in his life, he hates living in a separate house from her, but a whole different state? It would be unimaginable to him.

She’s about two seconds away from letting her nails sink into her palms when the back sliding-glass door opens and Jughead appears with a jacket in hand.

“I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing out here?”

Betty can’t answer, just shakes her head as if it helps him any.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks again, moving to sit her down on one of the outdoor chairs and sets his jacket over her legs. “Betts?”

She sinks her nails into his shoulders and rests her forehead on his, struggling to breathe.

“Betty, baby, I need you to talk to me so I can help you. What’s going on? There’s nothing pressing that I know of that we’re actively worried about, is there?” he questions himself and runs his hands up and down her thighs to provide warmth.

Betty wants to laugh at his ‘we’, like they really are one person, that their struggles are each other’s, and nothing has to be handled on one’s own. She wants to laugh, but can’t manage to do much more than breathe.

Jughead is squatting in front of her, hands trying to sooth her and bring warmth at the same time, and he bites his lip as he stares at her. “I need help here, Betts, I don’t know what’s going through your head. I know I’ve been teasing you about what we’re doing today, being cryptic and well, me, but if it’s freaking you out I’ll tell you. I know you worried I didn’t plan anything because of Jellybean and how we’ve never really done anything before—”

“It’s not you,” Betty finally manages and loosens her hold on him.

“Okay, it’s not me, it’s not Valentine’s Day, is it Polly? Your parents? Archie’s shitty ass mood?” he questions and she sniffles. “Betty, tell me what I can do,” he pleads and leans in closer, one hand moving to cup her cheek.

She nods and takes a moment to find her voice. Her lungs are beginning to hurt from how hard she’s trying to breathe. “I…you—you’re moving to Toledo?”

Realization fills Jughead’s eyes. “Oh, Betty, no, listen to me,” he insists and wipes away stray tears she didn’t know had fallen. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying here with my dad, with you, okay?”

“But… Jellybean’s going and you didn’t tell me—”

“Betty, I didn’t not tell you, I just haven’t told you _yet_. I didn’t want to have to deal with this until after Valentine’s Day because I know you much you’ve been looking forward to it,” he interrupts. “I’m not leaving you, Betty. I never would, I couldn’t.”

“But Jellybean—?”

“I talked to Jellybean about it, at length, multiple times, and we both agreed I should stay. My mom won’t go without her, and my dad wouldn’t survive us both leaving him, and I can handle him if he gets bad again. And then, of course, there is you, who _I_ wouldn’t survive without,” Jughead insists.

“Why Toledo, why not anywhere closer, somewhere that is only a couple hours’ drive like Chicago?”

“Our grandparents live just outside of Toledo, they’ve been begging my mom to leave my dad and go there for years. Billy has family about an hour away from there, and this town is small, Betts, my mom said she feels like she’s under a microscope and I don’t blame her. In the span of a few months she met Billy, cheated on my dad, left him, quickly divorced him, and is already engaged. I’m not stupid or deaf, everyone is talking about it, and I might not care, but she thinks the stress is bad for her sobriety and Jellybean, who is starting to see the stares and hear the whispers.”

Betty just nods as her body begins to calm down, her heartrate lower, her breathing slow. Part of her feels selfish because she’s _happy_ he’s staying, but the other part of her knows how difficult it will be for him with Jellybean so far away.

“I’m sorry, Juggie,” she murmurs with a hand sinking into his hair.

“Baby, never feel sorry for moments like these, you can’t help them, after all. I’m just happy you let me help you, that you do your best to let me in when they happen,” he replies, his head leaning into her hand, his beanie slowly falling off his head.

“No, not that, well yes, that,” Betty replies and bites her lip. “I mean, about Bean moving away, and your mom, and how you have to stay behind,” she corrects. “You… you never get a break, baby.”

“Actually, I got a big break last summer,” he tells her and then kisses her softly. “It’s going to suck, Betts, I know, and I hate all the change Jellybean has to go through time and time again, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it, and with my dad’s track record the courts would just laugh at him.”

“Still doesn’t make it fair.”

Jughead reaches behind him and tugs a chair closer for him to sit on the edge of. “Sorry, I’m starting to get shin splints or something,” he mutters, making her smile. “Betty, I know how much my family stuff bothers you, but it is what it is, and I’ve learned to accept that. I wish you would too. I don’t like how much it affects you when it barely affects me anymore.”

“But it does, Jug,” Betty insists, a hand cupping his cheek. “I know it does, you’ve just admitted defeat, and that’s what I hate. Jellybean’s your little sister, you’ve taken care of her since she was born, she’s a huge part of your life, and you’re a huge part of hers—”

“That’s… that’s part of the problem, Betts,” Jughead confesses and brings her hands to his lips to kiss gently. “I—Jellybean comes to me for things she should go to our mom about. She asks me for help with her homework, she asks me what to do with problems in school, she comes to me with her worries and doubts, and—I’m just her big brother, you know?”

“There’s no ‘just’ in there, Jug. You’ve given up so much for her, done so much for her. You guys have a special relationship.”

“I know, and she knows, but _I’m_ the person she still goes to with everything because she’s not used to being able to rely on our mom. If—” he stops and clears his throat, “—if our mom is sober and able to be an actual mother to her, she has every right to be. She wants to do right by Jellybean, and I can’t be mad about that.”

“I can be,” Betty states firmly, “because she never bothered to do the same for you, and still doesn’t. They could move to Greendale, Jellybean would switch schools, they wouldn’t know much about your family, and you guys would still all be together, geographically, but your mom is doing this and screwing you and your dad over in the process and I refuse to be okay with it. I hate the way your parents treat you. I hate how you’re the means to an end. It’s not fair.”

Jughead reaches to the ground and picks up his hat to put back on his head, an action that makes Betty’s heart thump because it means she made him feel vulnerable and he’s uncomfortable about it.

“Jug, I—”

“I can’t change my parents, Betty,” he cuts her off. “I just can’t, and if I dwell on it it’s going to drive me insane. I have to look at the bright side, something you taught me to do, or else I’ll lose it, okay? This is what I have to do to get through this, and you have to let me.”

Betty knows when to concede and nods. “Okay.”

“I love that you want to protect me, that you fight for me, but I can’t fight it anymore. It’s exhausting, mentally and physically, and I can’t do it anymore. As long as Jellybean is taken care of, as long as she’s happy and she’s safe, I can live with the rest. I have you, and that’s more than enough for me.”

“You’re more than enough for me too,” Betty whispers in response, and holds onto his hands tighter. “You’re everything.”

Jughead smiles and leans in for a soft kiss. “I don’t mean to be that guy, but I honestly didn’t come out here because I was worried about you,” he admits after. “I mean, I had a reason.”

“Wait, you mean if I’m out of your sight for more than five minutes you don’t freak out?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, then kisses her again. “No, uh, JB’s friends are starting to arrive and I think one literally tried to touch my butt. I need back-up in there.”

“Oh, sorry, I actually think my time here is up. I have to get home so I can get ready for our date,” Betty replies, her smile wide and eyes bright. “I would love to watch some little girls gawk at you while I wait for my dad to come get me though,” she offers.

“Aren’t you supposed to, like, mark your territory or something?”

“I already did,” Betty reminds him, patting their crown over his heart. “But, should I worry about a few 10-year-olds? If your answer is yes, then I think we have bigger issues.”

“Betts, I have to help watch them until our date, can’t you be a little obvious about us for a second?”

“You want me to pinch your butt in there? I definitely will.”

“You are zero help, Betty Cooper.”

“You taught me how.”

“Ouch, that hurt, right here,” Jughead states, a frown on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

“I bet,” Betty laughs and pushes on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being an idiot to make me laugh. I love you,” she tells him with a small smile playing on her lips.

“To be fair, being an idiot does come pretty easy,” he says.

“I can’t wait for our date tonight, Juggie,” Betty admits and bites her lip. “I bought a new dress.”

“I know, Kevin’s been dropping hints about it all week,” Jughead reminded her. “He’s acting like you’re wearing straight-up lingerie tonight or something.”

“Definitely not just lingerie,” Betty squeaks, her cheeks bursting into flames. 

Instantly, her boyfriend grins wickedly. “So are you saying there might be something related to that being worn tonight?”

“I—Kevin and I went to the mall in Greendale so it could never get back to my mother, and it was his idea, so yes I may have gotten a few… things,” Betty rambles and pulls down on her skirt.

“You’re doing way too much for my teenage boy brain when I’m supposed to be helping with my little sister’s sleepover,” Jughead tells her and leans forward. Instead of kissing her like she thought he was, his teeth caught hold of her bottom lip and tugged on it. The action made her insides melt and roar for more at the same time.

“You’re playing with fire, Jones,” Betty warns and grabs onto the sides of his neck until their lips are crashing together.

Suddenly there is a squeal and they both turn to find a row of girls with their heads peaked out the back door.

“I told you he had a girlfriend!” one shrieks before one by one they disappear back into the condo.

“Guys!” JB appears now and rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I told Samantha to tell you that your dad just got let in the gate, not for them to stare at you like you’re something worth looking at,” she mumbles.

“Oh, thanks,” Jughead calls after his sister and rolls his own eyes in an eerily similar way. “Be thankful you’re the youngest,” he sighs while standing and offering her his hand. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to the car. Anything to spend time away from the gaggle of girls.”

“You mean, your admirers?”

“Shut up and c’mon before I throw you right in the middle of the hoard,” he warns.

“But, babe, I think they’d rather I threw you in the middle,” Betty continues to tease.

“Maybe, but just imagine if they were told last girl standing gets this prize? It’d be a bloodbath.”

“Oh, please, you’ve been hanging out with Archie too much,” she states, then thinks about it. “Besides, I could take ‘em, no worries.”

“Now that’d I pay to see.”

“Mhm, get movin’, Jones, I have a date to get ready for.”

-:-

More than two hours later, Betty balls up a fist of her hair and squeezes in an attempt to get a better curl while giving herself another once over in the floor length mirror.

She didn’t straighten it after her shower like usual, instead leaving it in its natural state of half-waves, a look she never thought suited her, but Jughead had commented on it once, how he liked her semi-curly hair and thought she’d give it a try.

It’s different, her hair actually has bounce and a fullness to it, plus it was significantly easier than taking the time to straighten it, a job she wasn’t very good at, which was a big reason it always ended up in a ponytail because the back of her head always looked funny with it down.

Kevin had helped pick out her dress, but on the shopping trip it felt like she was just helping Kevin instead of the other way around. She’d never been much into shopping, usually it was something she did with Polly, but asking Polly to help her find a dress for her first real Valentine’s Day date hadn’t seemed like the best idea. Sometimes it felt like her big sister could hardly look at her, let alone willingly hang out with her. Kevin had dragged her from store to store and insisted she try on more dresses than she could count.

She loves the one she ended up choosing though, so it wasn’t too traumatic.

It’s navy blue with vines of pink-petaled flowers all over, but the design isn’t overwhelming. The bottom layered so she had movement, and it only went down to about where her fingertips skimmed her thighs. Showing minor cleavage as well as her soulmark, she pairs it with a light pink sweater overtop—Betty doesn’t know anything about their date and she assumes it’s in public and they aren’t ‘out’ about their marks yet, so she has to be safe. The back of the dress is open, with straps crisscrossing down her back, something she doesn’t think her parents would love, so the sweater helps with that as well. She finishes it off with dark blue booties that have about a two-inch heel and are super comfy.

Betty is still simply staring at herself when a short rapping comes from her bedroom door. Before she can even turn, her mother is letting herself in.

“Oh, Betty,” Alice coos coming up behind her all dolled-up herself and squeezing her shoulders. “You look so beautiful.”

“You think so?”

Her mom met her eyes in the mirror and nods almost solemnly. “You’re breathtaking, sweetie.”

“Thanks,” she whispers, her cheeks tinting pink. “You look amazing too, Mom.”

“Thank you. I just wanted to talk to you before Jughead arrived. Your father and I are heading out right after you,” Alice says while steering her over to the bed.

“Mom, do we have to do this every time Jughead and I go on a date? I know it’s not very often, we’re more of the stay-in type of people, but—”

“Yes, we do,” her mom cut her off. “Because even though you’re fourteen, you’re having very adult feelings and you certainly don’t look fourteen right now.”

“Mom, we—just kissing and some light touching, we’re not rushing anything, I promise,” Betty swears, which could be a lie considering some of their slightly less than PG-rated interactions, but they really weren’t rushing anything, so that part is true.

“But you’re marked, Betty,” her mom reminds her. “So you have that—that,” she stops to think about the word she wants to use. “You have that validation that Jughead is your person, and with that it’s easy to let things get out of hand. All it takes is one moment to say ‘yes’ instead of ‘no’ for something unplanned and unexpected to happen. I don’t care how old you are, or how much you’ve done, anything can happen because you love him and things can get carried away so easily.”

“Mom, I’m really not interested in sex yet—I’ve never even seen his… you know, which I think will be a shock in itself, honestly,” Betty admits.

 Her mother goes wide-eyed before barking out a laugh. “They certainly aren’t the best-looking things, but—”

“Mom!” Betty exclaims, more than a little grossed out.

“Sorry, but—I’m your mother, these are things I worry about and,” she stops again. “I marked when I was a teenager too, but you’re even younger than I was and I know the flood of feelings it brings. I’m not saying your father and I made mistakes, but we definitely didn’t take our time—”

“Mom!” Betty repeats with a horrified look on her face. “Too much information.”

“I want you to take your time to be kids while you can, to think with your head instead of your hormones.”

“Aren’t you the one who wants to send me off for the summer when I said I wanted to stay home to be a kid?”

“Well that has nothing to do with your hormones, it’s just good sense to look to the future in that way. Have you given it any thought? I can help you with your essay—”

“Mom,” Betty cuts her off. “Not now, please. Jughead is going to be here any minute.”

“I know, I know. I’ve given my two-cents, I suppose that is all I can do,” Alice sighs and stands.

“Mom,” Betty starts before her mom can leave. “Do you give these same talks to Polly? About Jason? Or… even before?”

“You know how your father and I feel about the Blossom’s, Betty,” her mom states simply. “We don’t want Polly seeing Jason, we’ve forbidden it, and even if she tries to ignore that, we will enforce it. The Blossom’s are horrible people, we’re only trying to spare her feelings, and they didn’t even mark—”

“What does that matter?” Betty questions as she stands. “If I hadn’t marked with Jughead I still would have fought to be with him, and I thought you would have supported that, with how we talked before I got my period.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Don’t ‘Elizabeth’ me, Mom,” Betty pleads. “Why is Jason different than Jughead? Because of his parents and some generations-long feud? None of that has anything to do with Jason. I’ve seen him with her, he treats her so well and makes her so happy. Isn’t that what you should want? It doesn’t matter what his parents have done, that has nothing to do with Jason or who he is. Don’t you see how unfair that is?”

“Betty, the Blossom’s—”

“Stop lumping them all together, that’s like saying Jughead is just like his parents, when that’s far from the truth. Don’t you think about how all this probably makes Polly feel? You accept Jughead, you seemed to even before we marked. Do you have these talks with her, or talk to her at all anymore? All she does is lock herself in her room. How do you think it makes her feel to see Jughead joking around with Dad and you giving me advice? Did you put Polly’s name in for any kind of internship program or anything?”

“Polly’s not interested in journalism or the family business,” Alice tells her.

“That’s what you got from what I just said? Doesn’t it bother you that you seem to favor me instead of Polly and that she probably notices? It bothers me. Polly and I used to be so close, Mom, and now—I miss her.”

“Is that what you two think? That we favor you?”

“It’s what it feels like to me, and it doesn’t feel good,” Betty confesses.

“Betty, we love you both equally, you’re our daughters. You just got an easier path than Polly, that’s all. You’re both like me in that you’re stubborn and you dig your heels in when you think you’re right. Polly and I have both dug our heels in about this, that’s all,” Alice insists.

“It’s almost been a year, Mom, if you dig any deeper it might as well be a grave for you to lie in. This is slowly tearing our family and Polly, apart. I hate it.”

“I can’t promise that our opinions will change about the Blossom’s,” her mother warns.

“I’m not asking for them to. I’m just asking you to not judge Jason because of his last name. Try to see what Polly sees in him. I want my sister back, please.”

Alice nods and smooths her own dress down. “I—I hear you, Betty, and I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you,” Betty whispers before hugging her mom.

The doorbell rings as they pull apart and Alice smiles down at her. “You ready?”

Betty nods. “Yeah, I just want steal some lipstick from Polly’s room, I’ll be down in a minute.” She makes her way to Polly’s room through their joined bathroom and as her hand searches for the light-switch on the wall the light turns on without her hitting it at all.

“Did you really mean that?” Polly questions.

Betty jumps. “Polly! I thought—what are you doing here? Didn’t you leave, like, an hour ago?”

“Did you? I mean, you didn’t have to do that, Betty,” Polly ignores her questions.

“Were you listening—I am so confused,” Betty admits.

“I told Mom and Dad I was sleeping over Olivia’s, but I just wanted them to go out so I could have the house to myself. They wouldn’t trust me to be here alone and not invite Jason over without them here,” Polly explains.

“Are you inviting Jason over?”

“I’m a sucker for the originals,” Polly says and they both laugh. “Thank you, Betty, and I—I miss you too, so much.”

“Really?”

“Betty! Yes, of course,” Polly insists and hugs her tight. “I’m sorry I let this get between us for so long. I know it’s between me and Mom and Dad, not you. It just hurt so much when you marked and I didn’t and I guess it held it against you.”

“It’s okay, I probably would have felt the same.”

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t have made me feel the way I made you feel. You would have been better, and I promise I’ll be better, Betty. We’ll be sisters again, I promise, like we were before.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Betty states and wipes her eyes carefully. “I’m messing up my makeup.”

“You look amazing, Betty,” Polly says and squeezes her hands. “Jughead isn’t going to know what hit him.”

“Oh, shit—Jughead is downstairs alone with Mom and Dad. He gets freaked out by them being so… well, he says they turn into Stepford parents around him.”

“I wouldn’t drink the Kool-Aid they offer, that’s for sure,” Polly jokes, and they laugh. “But, you go on, we’ll talk tomorrow. I want all the details from tonight and everything else I’ve missed. We’ll make a day of it, veg out on the couch and eat horrible food.”

“It’s a date,” Betty agrees and turns to leave before stopping. “Wait, I came here to steal your pink shimmery lipstick,” she tells her.

“Here, you can have it,” Polly offers and grabs it off her vanity. “It suits you better anyway.”

Betty smiles, feeling lighter than she has around her sister in months. “Thanks.”

“Go, before they make Jughead drink the Kool-Aid!”

She laughs and heads out through the bathroom again, and puts the lipstick on quickly before going down the steps.

Jughead is standing between her parents, a smile on his face and a single rose in his hands. Her heart is already melting and they haven’t even spoken yet.

As soon as she hits the bottom Jughead’s eyes are on her. “Hi,” she greets, tugging her small purse strap up her arm more, just for something to do with her hands.

Jughead looks like he snaps out of a kind of daze. “H—Hi,” he repeats.

Betty makes her way to him, looking him up and down. He’s more dressed up than she’s ever seen, wearing dress pants and a blue button-up that brings own the blue in his eyes, and for once his suspenders are being worn correctly. He finished it off with black motorcycle looking boots, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His beanie is missing, leaving his hair perfectly tousled and she wants to run her fingers through it.

“Hi,” she echoes.

Both of her parents laugh and the two teenagers both blush a little.

“This is for you,” Jughead says and hands her the rose.

“Thank you,” Betty giggles and steps forward to kiss him on the cheek. It leaves a pink smudge and she uses her thumb to wipe it away.

“I’ll put this in water for you, you two should get going,” Alice tells them and takes the rose from Betty. “I’ll put it in your room. Have fun tonight, and remember what we talked about.”

“Mom!” Betty squeaks and blushes even more.

“Have a good night, guys,” her father says before kissing her forehead. “And remember just because your mother and I might not be home by your curfew doesn’t mean we won’t know if you’re not home by your curfew.”

“She’ll be home, Mr. Cooper,” Jughead assures her father and takes Betty’s hand. “You ready?”

She just nods and they walk out the door into the brisk February air, but it is warmer than usual for the time of year. Still, her body breaks out in goosebumps, but she’s not sure if that’s because of the chill or the anticipation of the date with Jughead.

“I can’t believe you left the beanie at home for me,” Betty mentions when they hit the end of her walkway. “You know I don’t mind it, it’s part of you at this point, like a package deal.”

Jughead turns and his hands are cupping her jawline with his lips on hers, giving her little to no time to react before she’s kissing back out of habit.

For how fast the kiss began, how intense it became in the short time it happened, Jughead pulls away just as quickly with his chest heaving all the same. “I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that by now?”

“I never asked you to not wear your hat,” Betty answers with a wide-eyed look plastered on her face.

“No, but you do take it off every chance you get, I took the hint,” he tells her and kisses her, this time soft and slow. “You look so fucking perfect, Betty, and I know you hate the word, but nothing else describes you,” he murmurs, his arms now wound around her waist, hers around his neck with fingers at the nape of his neck.

“You think I look good now, wait until I unbutton the sweater and take it off, Jones,” she replies just a low, and bites her lip.

“I didn’t say you looked good, you look so much better than ‘good,’ Betty. That word shouldn’t even be allowed when it comes to describing you,” Jughead tells her. “I hoped you’d wear your hair down,” he comments before dropping his arms with a wink, and taking her by the hand to lead her further away from the house.

“I can take hints too,” Betty counters before falling into step with him. “Where are we going?”

“What’s the point of a surprise if I tell you?”

“Well, for future adventures, please tell me if we’re going to be outside for long because this dress may be pretty, but it’s not the warmest, and—”

Jughead turns to kiss her, effectively shutting her up. “Do you think I’d ever let you go cold, Betts? Give me a little credit.”

“Well, where are we doing? Town is the other way and if you paid for some kind of driving service or something I am going to kill you, my parents would have dropped us off, that is just a waste of money. And why would you have it pick us up far away?”

“If you were paying attention instead of asking questions you would probably have guessed by now,” Jughead replies with a wink before stopping in front of a house.

Betty looks around and realizes she recognizes where they’ve stopped. “Your old house?”

“You’re getting warmer,” Jughead tells her and tugs her along behind him.

“We’re going to your treehouse? Jughead, what if someone sees us? I’m wearing a dress and heels, I am not climbing up that ladder—holy shit,” she stops as it comes into view. It’s lit up with white Christmas lights and the old ladder is tied to posts hammered in to the grass, giving it stability. “Jug—Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins might be a little senile but I think they will notice their treehouse is decked out with lights and—”

Jughead stops her with a kiss. “I know I’m supposed to be cool and shrug and be like ‘who cares about them’ but the truth is I came by two weeks ago and plead my case to use the treehouse for the night. I told them about how I lived here, how the treehouse was my sanctuary, and it’s our first Valentine’s Day, and they said I was free to do with it what I wanted. So I borrowed a small generator from Fred, and the lights, and put Archie to work yesterday. Ta-da.”

“Juggie,” Betty cooed and squeezed his hand as she simply stared up at the treehouse. “This is the sweetest thing, but I’m wearing a dress and heels and—”

“And you’ll go ahead of me and you’ll complain, but you won’t fall and it will be fine,” he interrupts.

“Dress, Jughead. You knew this and you couldn’t have suggested I wear pants?”

“Have you seen your legs? Why would I ever suggest that? So I’ll see your underwear. You see mine all the time.”

“That’s different, you’re a boy and this underwear is different… it’s _new_ ,” she says with a knowing look.

“Betts, you’re kind of putting a damper on this whole romantic gesture I’m doing here,” Jughead admits wryly.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just…” she trails off and looks up.

“I’d say I won’t look, but I’m definitely going to. I’ve seen you mostly naked, Betty, and you’re worried about underwear? C’mon,” he says and sets a hand on the ladder.

“Okay, okay, but no comments or I’m likely to get distracted and fall,” she murmurs, sighing before beginning her ascent.

“Don’t go in, stay on the porch,” Jughead calls up once she pulls herself up.

“Porch? You mean the two feet before the door?” she responds and dusts off the chiffon.

“Don’t diss my treehouse.” Jughead appears from below her. “And while the view from here is great, I need you to move so I can actually get up there,” he adds as she realizes Jughead’s head would be up her dress if he finished his climb up the ladder.

Betty rolls her eyes before scooting over. “Shut up,” she mutters as he grins at her.

“Hey, you looked fucking sexy from my point of view, I can only imagine seeing it under the correct lighting and circumstances. Blue lace? I’m definitely a fan.”

“It’s actually really comfortable too. I thought it would be scratchy, but it’s not,” she informs him.

“Okay, so I may have lied a little bit about how long I was at Jellybean’s sleepover. Pretty much as soon as you were gone, I was too. I got everything ready here, then went to Archie’s to finish getting ready, and yeah, just wanted to get that off my chest.”

“I’m glad we cleared the air,” Betty teases.

“Okay, ready?”

“Well, first, here,” she hands him her purse and he takes it with a confused expression. Then, she takes off her pink sweater and does a quick twirl for fun.

Jughead simply stares at her for a long moment. “We should get in there before I give some weirdo kid with binoculars a show.”

Betty giggles before going through the sheet Jughead seems to hang hung up for their date and stops just a step or two inside. “Juggie,” she gasps.

Jughead had filled the treehouse with blankets and pillows, plus more Christmas lights, and there was another sheet hanging up on the wall with no ‘windows’, which were just square holes in the wood.

“Are you surprised?”

“Jughead… this is beautiful,” she whispers. “Do I smell… Pop’s?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jughead comes out from behind her and lifts a blanket off two takeout containers from Pop’s. “Dinner was included, and I’m no cook, so I got the next best thing besides your cooking.”

“I just can’t believe you did this,” Betty murmured and dropped to her knees onto the blankets that were so soft and fluffy she wants to melt into them.

“I, uh, have more,” Jughead announces, kicking off his shoes and joining her on the blankets.

“More? Are you kidding?” she asks in a laugh.

“There was an old projector at the Drive-In and, it was kind of crappy, actually, but I figured out how to work it and well, I have it here,” he tells her.

“You have it here? Like, we’re going to watch a movie on an old projector?”

“Yeah, I borrowed them from the Drive-In, we might get through two? It depends on how long the generator holds out.”

“Jughead, I can’t—” Betty stops and looks around. “This is too much, I—wow,” she breathes and shakes her head with eyes blinking.

“Betty, are you—are you crying?”

“No, I,” she stops to sniffle, and wipes her eyes carefully to avoid smearing her mascara. “It’s just the most thoughtful, sweet, best thing anyone has ever done for me,” she whispers. “It’s so much, Jug, and you did it all for me, and all I got you was a stupid pin.”

“What? Baby, I—stop crying,” Jughead urges and pulls her into his arms. “I did this because I love you, because I’ve wanted to do something for you on Valentine’s Day for as long as I remember, but was too scared because then it made this real. So, yes, for our first Valentine’s Day I went all out, and I probably will never top this, but I did it because I love you and I’ll never stop. You deserve all the best things in the world, Betty, and so much more than this.”

Betty manages to not full-on cry and shakes her head into his shoulder. “I deserve you, and I have you, and you’re all I want, you’re more than enough,” she tells him and lets him hold her for a couple minutes before she pulls away still teary-eyed. “I’m probably a mess now.”

“Shut up, you’re perfect, and always will be for me,” he says and wipes her tears. “Now, what did I hear about a present?”

Betty laughs at his smooth change of subject. “It’s stupid, I don’t even want to give it to you anymore after seeing all of this.”

“No, hey, you got me a gift and I want it,” he assures her with hands out and all.

She reaches for her purse and hands him the small square box buried inside. “You’re not into material things, and honestly, you’re hard to shop for, but I saw this and thought you’d like it,” she rambles as he opens it.

Instantly, Jughead’s eyes light up and he takes the crown pin out of the box. “This is… this is great.”

“It’s stupid, don’t lie. I just thought you could put it on your beanie, like showing our mark without actually showing it, and—” he cuts her off with a kiss.

“I love it, Betty, it’s great,” he repeats and reaches under some blankets in the corner of the treehouse. “It’s fitting because I got you this.”

“Jughead, you didn’t have to get me anything, especially after all this,” Betty tells him as she opens the rectangle box, then gasps, a theme for the night. It’s a small gold chain with a three-point crown hanging off it. It’s dainty and _perfect._ “Jug, stop making me cry.”

“I’m not trying to, so stop crying!” he says and she laughs. “I got this for the same reason, a way for you to show our mark until we’re ready.”

“I love it, will you put it on me?” She turns before he even answers, but a moment later he’s clipping it on and she reaches down to touch it and smiles. Instead of righting herself, Betty just falls back into Jughead’s arms, confident he’ll catch her. “I love you.”

Jughead wraps his arms around her from behind and squeezes. “I love you too.”

“So what are we watching?”

-:-

Betty knows that her parents want the Cooper name to be the epitome of class in Riverdale, so she manages to wait until their food is eaten, they’ve had nice conversation (during which she told him about Polly and was more than a little excited about their reconciliation), and they are few minutes into the second movie before jumping Jughead.

His fingers keep slipping under her dress, and she knows he’s itching to touch her underwear, to feel the lace, and she _wants_ him to even though the thought scares her. They’ve always been careful to avoid that final, bottom layer.

She’s underneath him, her legs open just enough for him to be nestled in between, her dress bunched up enough that he can almost see what he wants to touch so much. His fingers go as far as skimming the crest of her ass, an area this particular cut of cheeky underwear doesn’t cover, and he groans into her mouth as his hand moves to squeeze her thigh instead.

At the rate he’s going he’ll definitely reach her underwear next time, and it’s like he knows that too, so both of his hands lace through hers to pin her down on the blankets, a safe position with their digits otherwise occupied.

Jughead kisses down her neck, his teeth grazing as he goes, something he knows always drives her nuts, and makes her wiggle a hand free to thread into his hair. It’s just so soft without him even trying, which is so unfair.

Betty rolls them over as he’s sucking on her pulse point and she can’t take it anymore.

“Hm, I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” he murmurs, a hand fisting the bottom of her dress and tugging upwards, finally giving him a better view of the underwear he so desperately wants to touch.

Betty lets him look for a moment before grabbing onto his neck and pulling him up to kiss her. Jughead’s suspenders have been pushed off long ago and Betty started to unbutton his shirt, only to find a wife beater underneath, and give up because it was a worthless try with all the layers.

Still, her hands slip inside his shirt to feel his chest underneath, and lets out a long breath into Jughead’s mouth as he slips the straps of her dress down to reveal her own chest.

“Not fair, I don’t get the same show,” she murmurs with a smile and Jughead grins as he kisses down to her mounds.

It’s then that Jughead’s fingers finally, _finally_ manage to touch her underwear and he moans against her breast.

Betty takes ahold of his head and tilts it up so she can look him in the eye. It’s a strangely intimate feeling, Jughead’s fingers playing with the hem of the lace as they stare at one another. A finger slips underneath momentarily, making Betty’s hips jerk and grind against his erection, an action that makes him let out a low, guttural moan.

“J—Jug,” Betty whispers, kissing his lips softly before she goes on, “I want to know what your penis looks like,” she admits.

“Do you want like a dick pic, or?” he stops and makes her hips jerk again.

“I don’t—I don’t know, I just,” she tries to control her breathing and sits down on her haunches, which makes her crotch rub against his zippered area, and the friction makes her moan. She repeats the movement, then stops.  “Okay, I—I should stop, this is,” it’s all she can say as she scoots away.

“Betty, stop,” Jughead pleads, pulling her back by the back of her knees. “Do you… do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that?” she replies, breathy and obviously bothered.

“I want to try something, but I won’t take anything off, okay?” he promises and she just nods. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“What about you?”

“We’ll worry about me after,” he says and moves in to kiss her as a finger touches her through her underwear.

“Holy sh—” she swears and grips into his shoulders. “Jughead.”

“Relax, baby, okay?” he tells her and she nods, their lips brushing against one another. “Tell me if you want, or don’t want, something, or anything,” he says before touching her again, this time more firmly.

Betty tightens her hold on his shoulders, but doesn’t pull away, doesn’t want to, and that should scare her, but she ignores whatever repercussions there could be for what they are doing right now.

She switches between kissing him softly and slowly and moaning into his mouth, and soon finds herself practically riding his hand. It just feels so _good,_ like nothing she’s ever felt before, it makes her toes curl and her eyes close, and a fire start in her belly. It’s like when their marks touch, but the pleasure is further south, and somehow more powerful.

“Harder, Jug,” she pleads, and he does as he’s told.

She’s aching for him in a way she never has before, and it should worry her, but she can’t find it in herself to care. She just wants him so bad he’s all she can think about. His hand on her most intimate place, his hands gripping at his sides, their mouths and eyes on each other whenever they’re able.

The pleasure it mounting and before she quite understands what is going on something snaps inside her and she’s letting out a loud moan and collapsing against his chest. “Oh, my God,” she murmurs into his collarbone and just snuggles into his chest.

Betty’s not sure not sure how long she simply is held by Jughead, probably only a minute or three, but when she’s able to actually have coherent thought, Jughead is rubbing her bare back and kissing any skin his lips can reach.

“Jug,” she whispers and pulls away, a blush staining her cheeks. “I’ve never—that was my first,” she admits and bites a lip.

“I know,” he tells her and cups her cheeks. “I love you, baby, and I’m happy I was able to give that to you.”

“I love you too, thank you.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers and runs a hand through her hair.

“I want—I want to see _you_ , Jug,” she reminds him.

“Okay,” he agrees and bites his lip. “You don’t have to do anything to it.”

“I know, but I want to see it, and you can do your… thing. I’m a visual learner, so it would probably help me in the long run,” she admits.

Jughead chuckles. “I’m sorry, I just—only you would make this an educational moment.”

“Shut up, they aren’t the best-looking things, and I don’t want to be shocked later if we’re actually going to take that step,” she tells him.

“That’s fine, but you’re kind of on top of it, so,” he stops and she scoots down his legs to give him room. “Okay, for the awkward part,” he mutters as he unbuttons and pushes his pants and underwear down enough so his penis pops out.

First, Betty just looks at it with her head tilted. It’s not ugly, but it’s not something she would want to put in a frame up on a wall either. “Is this considered big?” she asks without looking up.

“Are you insulting my size?” he counters.

“No, I just—I’ve never seen one and health text books kind of go the Ken-doll method and porn isn’t my thing, so—” she stops and shrugs.

“Personally, I like to think I’m above average,” he tells her and licks his lip. “What do you want me to do, Betts?”

“You,” she answers, then shakes her head and looks up to see him smiling. “Shut up, just—do you and I’ll watch or whatever.”

“You do know this creates a little bit of a mess, right?”

“Oh, we have napkins!” she exclaims and reaches for the bag Pop’s from earlier and digs them out. “This will work, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles and sets them off to the side.

Betty watches as he wraps a hand around himself and gives a tug, making himself moan, and she watches as the skin stretches and crinkles back together. Stuff comes out of the top and Jughead swipes his hand over it, Betty figures for lube, it’s not like they came prepared for this.

Slowly, his tugs became faster and his moans louder, his free hand is cupping her breasts, but she’s too fascinated with the show to kiss him or do much in return, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Fuck, Betty,” Jughead groans and the comment urges Betty to wrap a hand over his.

“Jug, I want,” she stops him and actually looks up at him. “I want to finish, but I don’t know how—”

“It’s not hard,” he answers, then rolls his eyes at himself. “Okay, it’s hard, just don’t squeeze too hard and if any pre-cum comes out use it because you’re not making a fire, you know?”

“Pre-cum?” she questions, a small smile on her lips.

“Jizz?” he counters. “I was trying to be eloquent, but if you want douchebag talk I can do that too.”

“No, shh, just,” she finishes by giving an experimental tug, and he instantly moans louder than he was before.

“Holy fuck, this is very different. Jesus!” he pants and leans back on his hands to give her more room.

The encouragement helps and urges Betty to continue. She does as she’s told with the ‘pre-cum’ and learns what makes him do that deep groan she loves so much and listens when he tells her do to something different.

She’s just getting a rhythm and confidence when Jughead’s chest jerks and he’s reaching for the napkins before he ruins her dress.

Betty takes the napkins from him and gets a few final rubs out of him, making sure he’s completely done, and wiping her hands off in the process.

When she’s finished cleaning up she finds Jughead lying on his back with hands on his stomach as he breathes with eyes closed.

“We should do this every Valentine’s Day,” he sighs contentedly and Betty grins while pulling her straps back up her arms.

“What? Watch a black and white movie, then get each other off?”

“Don’t forget Pop’s, a very important detail,” he says, and lifts his butt to pull his pants back up. “But, we should clean up, the generator is likely to go on any minute now.”

“Are we cleaning all this up tonight?” she asks, running fingers through her hair to brush it out a bit.

“Fuck no, I’m doing that tomorrow,” he says and sits up with a wide smile on his lips. “Good Valentine’s Day?”

“Best day ever,” she confirms and kisses him soundly.

“Good, because this might damper the mood, so remember that feeling you have right now,” he tells her.

“What?”

Jughead rests his arms on his knees and looks at her for a long moment. “I didn’t know when to bring this up, I didn’t want to mess up the day, and with how you reacted to Jellybean moving—”  
“Oh, my God, did you lie? You are moving, aren’t you?” she interrupts, already frantic. “I—it makes sense with how close you are, but lying to just have a good date, especially with how it ended, is really shitty, Jug—”

“Betty, I would never lie about that, I don’t lie to you in general,” he assures her. “Your mom called me today,” he admits.

“My mom called—ugh, no,” Betty groans, immediately understanding the situation. “I knew she gave up too easily, shit.”

“Don’t be mad at her, she just wants what is best for you,” he insists.

“No, she wants to control me, just like she’s been trying to control Polly. I don’t know if this is something I want to do, and I’m not letting her, or you, force me into it.”

“Me? I have never forced you into anything, and I would never,” he responds instantly. “I just think this is an amazing opportunity you should look into, not ignore just because your mom wants it for you.”

“I’m not ignoring it, I am thinking about it. But we’re finally together, Jug,” Betty states. “I had all these plans of going to the Drive-In all summer, and late night meet-ups at Pop’s, and too many sleepovers to count, and more of what we did tonight, and,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’m allowed to want to be normal instead of some nerdy freak like my mom wants me to be. I just want to be a regular teenager now that I have the chance without the marks worrying us.”

“Betty, you and me, this right here,” he says with finger points, “is forever. We’ll have more summers and we’ll always have Pop’s and the Drive-In. This is one summer where you can learn so much about journalism, something I know you love and want to pursue. Don’t pass it up because of me, please. I want what is best for you, and this sounds awesome.”

“It sounds like eight weeks in Boston, me coming home literally the day before my birthday, a week before school starts, and only having, like, two weeks of real summer vacation. I do so much during the school year that I need summer vacation, Jug.”

“I hear you on that, it’s true, and if you truly don’t want to go that’s something I’ll accept and be fine with. But, I think you should apply, just see what they say. If you get accepted and it starts to sound better with time, then go. You deserve every opportunity, Betty, and I’ll even try to visit you if I can, there are buses and we can write letters, and we have phones. It’s the 21st century, it’s not like we won’t be able to communicate.”

“I know, but I don’t want to—I don’t know, I—it’s a big decision, Jug,” she whispers.

“It is, so put your application in or whatever. Don’t decide now because you’re upset at your mom and worried about me. Wait until you have a real decision to make,” he tells her.

“I don’t like that my mom went through you to get me to do this,” Betty states.

“I’m not a huge fan of it either,” he admits, “but I understand where she is coming from. I am your biggest concern about going, and I didn’t even know about it. I know it’s your decision, but if I’m what you’re worried about I think I should at least know to put my two-cents in.”

“That’s fair,” she sighs. “Okay, I’ll get everything together this week, I’ll do it,” she agrees.

“I’m not saying you have to do anything—”

“I know, but you’re right, I should put my name in and see if I get picked before saying ‘no’ just because I’m pissed at my mom,” Betty says. “But I’m telling her you told me and doing this isn’t okay,” she goes on.

“That’s fair, and besides,” Jughead says while reaching for her hand. “I think I want to go with JB to Toledo for a little bit, just help her settle in, you know? I think it would make the transition easier for her, and my grandparents have been asking me to come out to see them.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Jellybean would like it.”

“C’mere,” Jughead pulls on her hand and they kiss softly.

Just then, the lights go out and the hum from the generator is gone.

“And on that note, we should be getting you home, it’s almost your curfew,” Jughead murmurs against her lips.

“Thank you for today, Jug, it was amazing,” she whispers before kissing him again.

“You’re welcome, now help me gather up the trash.”

“Oh, such a romantic,” Betty teases.

“Hey, I think if tonight proves anything, I’m definitely romantic,” he counters.

“Just for me though, right?”

“Anything for you, babe,” Jug insists and looks at her for a long moment before resting his forehead on hers. “You want to ditch your curfew and just lie here for a while longer?”

Betty nods. “My mom owes me for going behind my back anyways,” she murmurs and holds on as Jughead falls back to the blankets, bringing her with him.

A minute later they are situated, Jughead with a hand in her hair and the other lightly scratching at her bare thigh that was lying across his stomach, and Betty thinks that they really should do this every Valentine’s Day.


	7. It's Missed When It's Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT - don't be mad at me because technically it's the 13th (maybe the 12th for some of you depending on timezones) so it didn't take me a whole month to update because the last one was on the 14th so HA.
> 
> JK - I went through a pretty bad depression spell where all I did was work, eat, and sleep and it was rough there for a minute. I was struggling, but I'm coming out of it and I'm trying to continue to do so. Thanks for hanging in there with me and sending asks on my tumblr about my progress or motivating me. You have no idea how much it helps just to know someone is thinking about my writing and telling me its worth pursuing.
> 
> ALSO - my brother had a baby on the 10th! So I had two days of babylovin' meaning I wouldn't leave him alone. He's the CUTEST (kind of, I mean he's my third nephew and they're all cute so) and he was a BIG boy, 10lbs! Jandy got pics, ask her how cute he is because he's so CUTE. 
> 
> & \- as always, shout out to Jandy for dealing with me when I was a low mope and on a baby high - she's the best and deserves praise, applause, and possibly alcohol or whatever she enjoys immensely. 
> 
> So, please, read, review, and enjoy. Thanks!

     “There is no written record of a society without soulmarks. For as long as humans have been on Earth and able to communicate, there has been evidence of soulmarkings and, subsequently, soulmates.

Perhaps the most commonly researched ancient culture regarding soulmarks are the Ancient Egyptians. Their hieroglyphs and recorded history tell of soulmarks that are markedly different from the kind we know of today… They left stories of soulmates who could feel each other’s pain, knew when something happened to the other, and even those who died when their soulmate did despite appearing relatively healthy.

Many researchers chalk this phenomenon up to intuition or tall-tales, but others believe in its existence, however speculate that as we evolve, so do soulmarks… but perhaps a better explanation may be that as humans become more and more desensitized and interested in only the physical, soulmarks have changed too.”

From _Soulmarks Through History,_ 2013

*

The coolness of the window against her skin is calming until the train comes to a halt and jerks her forward against the expanse of glass.

It should be unsettling, but Betty just grits her teeth and stands, trying to focus on the fact that she’s home, even if it is a day late, even if her parents insisted they pick her up from the train station instead of (and without) Jughead, even if there are crescent shaped scars on her palms that are irritated because they are so fresh, even if it is her birthday and she’s spent it on a train with broken air conditioning.

Finally, she’s home in Riverdale, she’s in same zip code as her soulmate, breathing the same air, surrounded by familiarity.

Betty lugs her extra-large suitcase down the tiny train aisle and ignores the stares since she’s the only one getting off in her small town. They look at her like she’s a burden, because they have to spend ten minutes in Riverdale rather than speed past to get to somewhere more fun and exciting.

Well, fuck them, Betty thinks as she exits the train. She just had the most challenging summer of her life, and while it was unique, informative, and there are parts she will never forget, it was also long, hard, and unforgiving.

They can wait ten damn minutes so she can finally put this summer behind her and be a step closer to seeing her soulmate again.

She stops and sighs in the train station, surprised her mother hasn’t spotted her and pounced already. Something happened at home between her parents and Polly, she knows it, but isn’t very clued in just yet. All she does know is that her sister’s phone number is no longer in service, and her parents aren’t answering questions about it at all. Archie and Jug haven’t seen Polly around the house in weeks—a part of her is scared to go home and find that her sister has become a weird smell in the basement.

Who knows what went down when the two strong-willed Cooper girls finally blew up at one another?

Betty’s looking around when her eyes instantly find a figure leaning against a pillar across the mostly empty station—Riverdale isn’t exactly a travel hub, despite Pop’s being recently featured on the Food Network—something Jughead was very against as he saw it as the media exploiting something he savored as pure and the soul of his hometown. Her boyfriend complained about it for weeks, but Betty loved hearing him drone on about it on the phone, sometimes it was all that got her through the day without him there.

She blinks and thinks her mind is playing tricks on her.

Her mouth drops open as she takes in the sight, the beanie wearing boy she left home is not the person in front of her.

Instead, she sees a man, or almost a man, now officially a whole head taller than her, with lean _muscles_ , broad shoulders, and a cut on his chin, probably from attempting to shave because he has actual hair on his face (instead of just insisting he does), and she manages to stand still for a whole minute before jumping into action.

He’s already halfway to her when she forgets about the suitcase, takes off in a run, and catapults herself into his arms, legs wound tight around his waist.

“Oh, my God, this better be you or else I’m wrapped around some guy who is now terrified or about to kidnap me,” she says into his neck and hears his laugh in her ear, and it’s like coming home.

Riverdale is just a place, a word to describe the dirt and structures around her. In reality, Jughead is her home, he’s where she belongs.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says and her insides quiver—his voice is lower too.

“Keep—keep talking, I want to hear your voice. Fuck! I missed you so much,” she murmurs, clinging to him so hard her palms ache, but she doesn’t care.

“Language! What did the big city do to you?” he laughs and she does too and then pulls away just enough to press her lips against his.

It’s innocent, for all the naughty texts and phone calls they’d shared near the end of her internship program, but Betty’s just so happy to be near him, touching him, actually being held by him, that having a full-on make out session with roaming hands isn’t what is on the forefront of her mind. 

They share a series of intimate kisses before Betty rests her forehead on his and runs a thumb over his bottom lip.

“I missed you so much, baby,” she whispers. “We’re never going to spend that much time apart again, okay?”

“Agreed,” he murmurs before kissing her again, this time a little deeper, a little longer, and makes her squeeze her legs tighter around his waist. Jughead smiles as their kiss ends and purposefully lets her slowly slip through his fingers until she’s back on her feet safely.

Betty refuses to let go and keeps her fingers locked around his neck. “How are you here? I mean, my mom said she wanted time as a family first and—ugh, is she dangling you in front of me just to be waiting in the car or something?”

“No, but I do love being treated like a piece of meat, and that’s not sarcasm,” Jughead answers easily. “She decided to honor the original plan of us getting to be together for the majority of your birthday. When we got word you train was delayed she called to let me know. I think I’m a present? So again, the piece of meat thing is working for me.”

“Best present ever,” Betty whispers with a soft kiss. “Can we get out of here? I mean, do you have a plan, or,” she stops and bites her lip.

“The original plan was to crawl through your bedroom window at midnight, give you your present, and then do some of those things we talked about,” he says with a devilish grin that makes Betty turn pink. “So, whatever you want, I’m down for. Food, family time, alone time—”

“Option three please,” she interrupts with bright eyes and Jughead chuckles, dropping his hands from her waist to grab the handle of her abandoned suitcase.

“I’d like to say your chariot awaits, but we’re walking, sorry,” he says as she wraps her arms around his free one, leaning into his body as they make their way out of the station.

“Hm, that’s fine, I don’t think my suitcase would fit on the motorcycle you’re fixing up, or so you told me,” Betty teases.

“Alright, so I might just be helping my dad by handing him tools, but it’s keeping us both out of trouble, which is something I thought you’d approve of,” he mentions pointedly.

“I do, you just don’t know the difference between a socket wrench and a torque wrench, so it’s hard to believe—”

“Well unlike you, my dad is nice about it and explains what they are and—”

“I do that! You just don’t listen—”

“I do too listen, but let’s not do this on your birthday, okay? But at midnight, it’s on,” Jughead states and Betty giggles into his arm.

“Hmm, you smell different,” she murmurs into the sleeve of his t-shirt. “But it’s not your shirt, it’s…” she trails off while sniffing up his neck.

“After shave,” Jughead fills in as their stride slows.

“After—are you shaving now, Jughead Jones? And you didn’t tell me?” she questions, a twinkle in her eye that makes Jughead grin without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry, I also stubbed my toe the other day, it hurt really fuckin’ bad, I swore and everything,” he jokes in return, to which she rolls her eyes as she hangs off his arm.

“Who doesn’t swear when they stub their toe?”

“Jesus, probably,” he answers and she smiles up at him because his own is so unapologetic, like he wouldn’t be able to stop if asked.

“You’re a doof, I don’t know why I even missed you,” Betty sighs dramatically.

“It’s about three inches soft, maybe six when it’s hard,” he fills her in.

“Jughead!” Betty squeaks, her cheeks flushing pink as she buries her face in his shoulder. “Wait, did you actually measure?”

“Using the finger method,” he answers, to which Betty raises one eyebrow. “Like, when you bend your index finger the middle part is about an inch, so you count how many you can make until you’re out of, well, room,” he explains.

“Hmm,” Betty hums.

“What, no comment?”

“Uh-uh,” she replies as they enter the trailer park. “I’m just gonna have to measure it myself later to settle this dispute,” she says with the most innocent of faces.

“Oh, are you now?” Jughead just about chokes and Betty shrugs nonchalantly. “The door’s unlocked, go ahead first,” he instructs when they reach his trailer, and Betty does as she’s told so Jughead can lug up the too-big suitcase she’s lived out of for two months now.

Jughead himself looks different, smells different, talks different, but the trailer is the same. A messy-clean, one where both boys know where the necessities are, but an outsider would be totally clueless. There are a couple dishes in the sink, some clothes scattered about, all FP’s it seems, but the surfaces are clean, the vacuums been used recently, and some air freshener is sitting out, probably for her sake.

Betty lets her overly large purse, practically a carry-on of sorts, fall from her shoulder to the floor.

“Hm, you still with me, baby?” Jughead questions, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind, his fingers slipping underneath her flowy white t-shirt that’s knotted in the front, but was bought that way.

It covers her mark, of course—probably her favorite part about being away was that she was able to show their mark, a sign that she was taken and happy. She’s in love, and it didn’t matter who saw it because no one in Boston knew her or ever heard of Riverdale.

“I think your hands got bigger too,” Betty murmurs as she leans back against him, an arm reaching up to settle around his neck as she angles her face to look at him.

“Too?”

Betty turns, her eyes locked on his, and she shivers as his hands roam and massage at the small of her back. “Mhm, your shoulders are wider, you’re taller, your voice is lower, you’re _shaving_ now. So much changed in two months, Jug.”

“Maybe, but a lot has stayed the same,” he tells her.

“Like what, because to me, even your neck is thicker, and I _like_ it! What is up with that?”

Jughead grins and reaches a finger up to hook her neckline. “This,” he murmurs as he tugs to show their crown. “This is the same, baby, and it will never change. And yeah, we’re different physically, but that’s it.”

“’We’re’ different?” Betty questions.

“You think it’s just me that went through a growth spurt, Cooper?” he demands to know. “The only part of me that I thought changed was my height, well, that and I’m aware I shave now,” he mentions in an afterthought.

“I like how low your voice is now,” Betty whispers. “I hope it gets even lower.”

“I like how many cannoli’s you ate,” Jughead offers in return.

“What?” she laughs, her eyes scrunched together.

“All summer I got at least one specific text every day, how you insisted you weren’t going to buy any cannoli that day, but later I got a picture of you eating one because you couldn’t resist,” he informs her. “That, and Boston Crème pie, but that wasn’t every day. You’re a real big dessert eater, you know?”

“Are you insinuating something, Jughead Jones?”

“I like my woman with a hearty appetite,” he answers easily. “And I like how because you were out from under your mother’s thumb you could do what you wanted. You didn’t have to worry about the look you’d get for having seconds, or answer questions about why you didn’t work out in the morning, or if you did what exactly did you do and for how long. You didn’t get compared to Polly or explain anything you did.”

“So you’re saying…?” she asks.

He grins down at her. “You grew too, Betts,” he says and reaches down to grope her ass. “In all the best ways.”

“My boobs got bigger,” she admits.

“Trust me, I noticed,” he agrees.

“Well, I had to buy new bras. In Boston, by myself. Usually I have Polly or Kevin.”

“Not your mother?” he asks with that shit-eating grin of his.

“Definitely not my mother,” she insists.

“It’s not just your boobs and ass, Betts, you’re different. More confident, more comfortable in your own skin because you didn’t have your mom’s voice in your ear. You carry yourself differently, but yes, Betty, eating those Boston delicacies definitely worked for you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, you’re beautiful, Betty, but do you know the best part?”

“Hm?”

With a grin, Jughead quickly reaches down to wrap his hands under her bum and lifts her up. “We get to rediscover each other all over again.”

Betty shrieks, then laughs into his hair as he hastily makes his way down the hall to his bedroom—again, something else that has stayed the same. It’s still covered in movie posters, black and white classics, Star Wars, even a John Hughes one, but next to his bed is a corkboard covered in pictures of him and their friends, Jellybean, even a few from when they were kids, but mostly her, to be honest.

Surprisingly, his bed is made, the plaid comforter splayed across the mattress perfectly. It had been a joke she’d bought him one Christmas, but it was warm and soft, and Jughead loved it. The floor is clear, another air freshener adorns the bedside table and it smells clean, but not like Jughead per se.

Betty bites her lip and sighs as he kisses down the column of her throat. “You planned this?” she questions, but it sounds more like a statement.

“Not exactly this, but I hoped you’d want time alone eventually,” Jughead answers and lets out a long breath as he rests his forehead on hers and breathes her in. “Even if to just touch marks. We don’t have to do anything besides that. Whatever you want, baby.”

Betty nuzzles their noses together in a nod.

After how far they went on Valentine’s Day she’d suggested they calm down with the physical part of their relationship, at least in taking layers off their bottom halves. How much she wants to be with him physically scares her, something he knows, and so he quickly agreed, saying she was the boss of how fast, or slow, they went.

Betty doesn’t think having sex with Jughead would ever be a mistake, but she doesn’t want it to be impromptu either. She wants it to be a step they take together being fully aware of what they are about to do, to be responsible with the very big action they will be taking when they do. Maybe that’s her mom’s doing, always telling her how big of a deal sex is, but Betty doesn’t think it’s a bad thing, even if her mother is the reason she gets so nervous every time they go further physically.

“Jug, I wanna do what we talked about,” Betty says after a silent moment, her voice earnest and heart pounding in her ears. “On the phone, when I called you in the middle of the night after that dream I had—”

“I remember,” Jughead interrupts with hands cupping her cheeks.

“Is your dad coming home soon or—” she stops as he shakes his head.

“Not until the bars close,” he tells her. “What happened in that dream again? Remind me.”

Her eyes close as he strokes her cheeks and a thumb runs over her bottom lip. “Jug, I—you know,” she murmurs, her tone pleading.

“I want you to tell me what you want, Betts.” 

“What we talked about, I want you to,” she stops and gives him a look while slipping her fingers under his shirt to feel his bare abdomen.

“Want me to what?”

“Jug, you know, I,” she lets out a breath and stares up at him with yearning eyes.

“Betty, when have I ever made you feel like you can’t talk to me about anything?”

“Never, but I—you know what I want, Juggie.”

“And I want to hear you say it,” he responds easily. “I love when you’re vocal, baby,” he admits and bites his lip while pulling her hips to meet his. “I love when you tell me what you want, how you want it, when you say my name, fuck, just the noises you make. So I want you to tell me what you want, then I want you to instruct me as I do it so you get exactly what you want.”

Betty takes in a deep breath and lets it out shakily, her pupils now blown, and nods ever so slightly. “Okay.”

Jughead presses their foreheads together and licks his lips. “Say it, Betty.”

“I want—I want,” she starts, then clears her throat. “I want you to go down on me,” she whispers and brings him in for a kiss. It’s all heat and open mouths and tongue.

Jughead pulls away just enough to tug her shirt off, then his own, and smiles down at her heaving chest, or their mark, she isn’t quite sure.

He licks his bottom lip as he brings a hand up to touch her bralette, it’s white and lacy and tight, holding in her breasts just so.

Betty shivers, but says nothing as his eyes take in the sight.

“Take your pants off,” he orders, his tone firm but soft, and she does as she is told, revealing the matching white bikini cut panties. They are practically sheer, with a few white lace flowers being the only real coverage. “And let your hair down,” he says once her jeans are kicked off.

Her hair, previously in a messy bun because it is longer now than ever before, falls around her shoulders in waves, full and heavy. The smell of her shampoo fills her nostrils and she shivers again as the tendrils tickle the top of her breasts, which are now sensitive and causes her whole body to break out in goosebumps.

Jughead threads his fingers into her hair and tugs her close, breathing her in and to Betty he almost looks high, like she’s a drug, one he hasn’t had in eight weeks and had been dying for.

Betty runs her hands up and down his bare sides and leans in to his hold.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Betty,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “and I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, but you have to tell me what you need ‘cause we’ve never done this before, okay?”

Betty swallows visibly, but nods.  “I love you,” Betty whispers and lightly scratches down his chest to his happy trail.

“I love you more,” Jughead states before capturing her mouth in a kiss and slowly starts backing her towards the bed. “Is this one of the new bras?” he asks when the back of her knees hit his extra-long twin causing her to fall back.

Betty smiles while situating herself on the mattress and relaxes into the comfort of it, into the smell of Jughead that erupts when it’s rustled. The cotton of the comforter is so different than the delicate and too-expensive pink one on her bed that is itchy and heavy, and sometimes feels like it’s suffocating her.

She waits until Jughead is on his knees between her legs to answer. “Mhm, the mall was one of the places approved for us to go during our free time, and since no one knew me or would be able to tattle to my mother I may have gone a little overboard. I might have a lingerie kink, if that’s a thing?”

“I definitely approve of it if you do,” he tells her while simply looking down at her. “Remember, be vocal, baby,” he whispers before descending upon her.

He goes straight for their mark and attends to it thoroughly using his teeth and tongue, every lick and nibble causing Betty to moan and arch her chest closer to him. She grabs onto a hunk of his hair to do her best to keep him there.

“Hm, this is so pretty,” Jughead says against the lace of her bralette.

“Do you have a lingerie kink too?” Betty asks in a breath, a smile on her lips.

“On you? Definitely,” he states and pays attention to the mounds of her breasts, his lips gliding over them, teasing. “But I bet you look better without it.”

“What a line,” she says in a laugh as he slips his fingers behind her back, quickly setting her chest free. Jughead guides the undergarment down her arms then tosses it aside.

“Look at that, I was right,” he says and grins before continuing his journey down her body.

He licks and sucks and kisses, making her writhe and moan under his touch. By the time he reaches her panties Betty feels like a livewire, like electricity is coming from her fingertips and snapping in the air surrounding them.

“Juggie, take off my underwear,” Betty pleads as his mouth kisses around the edging.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says against her hipbone before tugging the lace down.

Once it’s gone, Betty tries to ignore the feeling of being so exposed and bites her lip under his intense gaze. It’s the first time she’s ever been completely naked in front of Jughead, and she lets out a shaky breath to get rid of the nerves.

“I wish you could see you the way I see you,” Jughead murmurs.

“Back at you, babe,” she counters, making him smile.

He slides his hands down her legs, pulling them further apart. “You still want this?”

“God, yes,” Betty practically moans.

Jughead situates himself between her legs and before Betty can even start to get nervous (again) his fingers separate her bottom lips so he can lick up her slit.

“Holy—fuck!” Betty cries against the pillow and she’s sure there are literally sparks of electricity crackling in the air.

He likes the encouragement and repeats the action, this time flicking his tongue, making Betty grip the sheets and mewl for more.

Jughead takes his time with her, learning what she likes and what makes her tug on his hair or swear. He discovers what and where her clitoris is, making sure to pay special attention to it and Betty’s eyes just about roll back inside of her head. He does as he’s told until her hips are bucking and she’s begging for more.

“J—Jug,” she stutters, pulling on his hair until he realizes she wants something from him.

“What, is everything okay?” he asks and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a sight that makes her stomach coil tighter.

“Jug, I want you to,” she stops and tries to catch her breath. “Finger me.”

Jughead nods. “Let me know if anything hurts or—”

“It won’t, but I will. It feels so amazing, Jug,” she assures him and while looking her in the eye Jughead takes his middle finger and gets it wet between her folds, his knuckle hitting her clit just right. “Jesus,” she moans, her head dropping back to the pillow.

“Actually, it’s Jughead,” he says and she can’t even find it in her to roll her eyes or make a snide comment in return. He sucks hard on her sensitive nub before his finger enters her.

It does feel weird at first, Betty thinks, but then he crooks his digit and hits a spot that makes her practically yelp. “There, Jug,” she says in a loud moan, “right there.”

He does as he’s told, flicking and sucking while rubbing the spot inside her. It feels so good Betty isn’t in control of her body, she can’t stop herself from begging for more or even trying to wiggle away because it feels too good. Jughead clamps an arm over her hips, keeping her still, and every time she manages to peer down at him he either looks like he’s devouring his favorite meal (and with his appetite that’s an honorable title) or his eyes are on hers, and it’s an extremely intimate feeling.

It’s their marks touching times a million, and then some.

“Jug, Jughead, I think I’m almost,” she says in pants and he speeds up his miniature thrusts inside her and in a matter of moments she’s screaming and trying to muffle it in his pillow.

Waves of pleasure wash through her, they are large and powerful, like a tsunami, destroying everything in its wake. And that’s how Betty feels, utterly wrecked. She knows she’s breathing heavy and that her throat is producing a hum she hasn’t consented it to do. It’s almost like she’s not in her own body, but floating above it.

No, _flying_.

Betty feels a light blanket come over her and Jughead cuddle up next to her.

“Thank you,” she sighs, and it’s the first action she has control of, but doesn’t think she’d be very useful doing much more just yet.

“For what, baby?” he asks and she shivers as his breath hits her sticky skin.

“For making me fly,” she answers with eyes still closed.

When Betty comes-to Jughead is rubbing her back and periodically kissing behind her ear.

“You are a very fast learner,” is the first thing out of her mouth and it makes Jughead chuckle. The rumble is welcome against her chest. “Jug, that was… wow, thank you.”

“And to think I’m just starting out,” he jokes and Betty nuzzles her face into his shoulder. “It sounds dumb, but I did research, sort of. I wanted to make sure it was good for you. You hear how so many girls fake it or whatever. I never want us to be like that.”

“It never will be,” Betty assures him. “You’ve never made me feel less than amazing, Jug. We’re learning together,” she tells him and kisses the corner of his mouth. “And, research? You mean you watched porn and called it research?”

“I read, actually. Surprisingly there are quite a few articles written on the art of eating out a woman. There were flow charts, diagrams, pictures of a clitoris, how to find the g-spot, and the best way to stimulate it. It’s the size of a nickel and three inches inside the vagina,” he informs her, his voice professional and matter-of-fact. “And, yes, I did watch some porn, merely for scientific purposes, not at all for personal reasons.”

“You’re so selfless,” Betty coos as she sits up on an elbow. “I bet you rewarded yourself for being so practical and making sure I’m taken care of.”

“I try very hard to be a good boyfriend,” he agrees.

She swings her leg over his hips and takes hold of his still hard erection. “I think you should be rewarded by me too. I mean, your research worked out so well.” 

Jughead gasps and strokes the base. “Fuck, I—” he stops and bites his lip so hard she’s surprised there isn’t blood.

“You have lube, boyfriend? I’ve been doing research too,” she mentions with a wicked grin.

“Top drawer,” he grunts.

She puts a little in her hand and starts rubbing him up and down slowly. “This goes both ways, Jug, tell me what you like or want, okay?”

“I don’t think you understand just how much you merely being naked does to me,” he grits out as she starts twisting with her hands.

“If you’re still using big words I don’t think I’m doing so well,” she comments while stretching her body out with her head at his waist.

Betty takes her time exploring him too, kissing down the V at his hip bones, scratching at his happy trail, letting her breasts skim over his penis, her hair tickle his tip. Finally, when he’s gasping for more and she licks her lips and takes his cock into her mouth.

A string of curses slips from his lips as Betty’s head bobs. “Jesus Christ, Betty, holy shit!” he grunts, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucks. “Betty, I’m—you might want to,” he warns and Betty reaches for the box of napkins just in time.

“Fuck, did you do research too?” he gasps after Betty’s cleaned up his mess and tossed the napkins in the nearby trashcan, then settled back in against his side.

“Remember how I complained about my roommate for the internship because she never stopped talking? Well, she was very boy crazy, so I listened when I felt the information was useful.”

Jughead lets out a heavy breath and wraps his arms around her. “We make quite the pair the way we research and selectively hear, huh?”

Betty rubs her fingers over their mark and hums in agreement.

“Before I forget due to teenage hormones, I do have an actual present for your birthday,” he says as he’s already reaching into his nightstand, this time the bottom drawer.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Jug, just seeing you is enough, and especially with what we just did—”

“I hope you don’t plan to only do this on special occasions, because I was hoping for some regularity,” he comments and Betty shakes her head at him. “You know how that new vintage store-slash-pawn shop that opened on the Southside?”

“Mhm, you couldn’t stop talking about the old camera you got there and how excited you are to develop the pictures in the dark room when school starts back up.”

“I found something else there, and I probably shouldn’t be spouting off about how I found it at a pawn shop like—”

“Jughead, shut up, I would love anything you got me because _you_ got it for me,” she assures him. “And I hate when you spend money on me, so if it was expensive I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m not telling you how much I spent. Besides, with my working off and on for Fred all summer, along with the Drive-In, I have plenty of money saved up. Plus, I don’t have to worry about Jellybean financially anymore so it’s mine to do what I want with it.”

“All right, all right.”

“Well, I saw this and—honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and how it was perfect, even though you hate the word,” he mumbles while handing her the little black box.

Betty sits up as she opens it. “Oh, my God, Jug,” she breathes, taking the ring out of the box. It’s silver and is made up of Celtic knots and comes together at the top with hands, a heart in the middle, and of course, a crown on top. “It’s beautiful, and yes, perfect.”

“It’s called a Claddagh,” he answers. “It’s Irish, it represents love, loyalty, and friendship. I thought it was perfect because even though you’re my girlfriend, you’re also my best friend, and you’re also so much more than both of those titles, you’re my soulmate. I’ve never known anyone so persistent, so stubborn, you’re always telling me how much I’m worth and how you’ll always be there for me. My parents never bothered to truly stick around, and even though I pushed you away time and time again before we marked you never budged. I know no matter what happens you’ll be there, by my side, and the same goes for you.”

Betty smiles and looks up at him. “And it has a crown on it,” she states.

“That helped,” he agrees, taking the ring from her and slips it up her left ring finger. “The story goes that when the heart is facing out it means your heart is free. But when it’s facing up, it means you’re taken, that you’re in love.”

Her eyes water as she stares at it. “It’s beautiful, I love it,” Betty whispers while wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

“Mm, I love you,” he says into her neck.

“I love you more,” she murmurs their mantra and tugs him back down to the mattress. “Do you want to take a nap then grab some Pop’s?”

“Mmm, if I didn’t already love you that would have done it,” he says with a light kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes.

*

“Jug,” Betty warns hours later without much heat to it. “Jughead.”

“Don’t threaten if you’re not willing to follow through,” he replies with a shrug that jostles her head.

“Juggie, it’s my birthday,” she reminds him softly in a timid voice that makes him crumble.

“Ugh, I like it better when you actually fight me, not when you have a legitimate excuse for me to give you what you want,” he sighs as he slides the plate of fries within her reach.

Betty smiles in victory before popping a small fry into her mouth. “Don’t worry, there’s always tomorrow,” she says cheerily, a stark contrast to her tone just a moment ago.

Jughead settles back against the booth and wraps his arm tighter around his girlfriend, shaking his head as she empties his never-ending fry plate. “I love that my appetite is rubbing off on you,” he comments. “That, or our actions earlier just left you positively famished.”

“Hm, Juggie, I love you, but you can read some books from our century, I promise you not all of them are like _Twilight_ ,” Betty responds with a hand over her mouth as she speaks because it’s still full of potato. “You’ll find that words like ‘famished’ are outdated.”

“So is chivalry, but you don’t seem to mind when I practice that.”

“That’s not outdated, it’s dead,” she corrects.

“Or is outdated? Progressive feminism is serious and we shouldn’t joke about it,” he says matter-of-factly and makes Betty giggle into his neck.

“Well, I got myself a chivalrous feminist, so who is the winner here?”

“Have you seen what you look like naked? I’m the winner in this relationship, always,” he responds without missing a beat. “Thanks, Pop,” he adds on as the old man drops off a new plate of fries and takes the old one.

“And I wouldn’t forget one of my favorite’s birthday,” the old man tells her as a waitress walks up with a tray holding two milkshakes, one for her and one for Jug, in their favorite flavors, of course.

“Pop, you didn’t have to!” Betty insists, but takes the milkshake happily, because no one ever turns down one of Pop’s milkshakes.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if I forgot. Happy birthday, Betty,” he says and leaves them with a wink.

Betty takes a long sip from her vanilla milkshake and hums without realizing it. “There’s nothing like Pop’s milkshakes,” she sighs and slumps against Jughead’s side.

He nods in agreement, his on lips wrapped around the red and white straw.

“Mm, I don’t want to go home,” Betty whispers as she adjusts her head so Jughead’s chewing isn’t bothering her. “This has been the best birthday ever.”

“I don’t know, remember when your parents rented that bounce house thing? That was pretty awesome,” Jughead comments.

“You just liked that birthday because I insisted on wearing a crown and then made my mom buy you one, because if I was going to have a crown, then you needed one too,” she states.

“I remember Archie got jealous, so you made him one before the party and it was so bad,” her boyfriend says in a laugh.

“It was not bad! It was unique.”

“It was like the paper boat from _It_ but on his head,” Jughead insists.

“Well, I felt bad. I didn’t want him to feel like he wasn’t my best friend too. He’s my best friend, but if I happened to pull a _Princess Diaries_ somehow and become queen one day it’s you that would be king, not Archie, sorry.”

Jughead laughs before stopping abruptly. “Speaking of,” he says and Betty looks up to see their red-haired friend entering the diner with the football team. “You go say hi, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he suggests and is gone before she can even answer.

Archie had spotted her almost immediately and is already at the booth when she stands up. “You’re back!” he exclaims before engulfing her in a hug.

“I am, since this afternoon,” she responds, but it’s muffled into his shoulder. “Wow, you grew too, and you’re… harder,” she says and playfully punches his pecs.

“Hey, all I did was load one pile of rocks into a wheelbarrow and then drop it off in another pile, and this is what happened,” he answers. “And, happy birthday. I have a present for you, but didn’t think I would be seeing you, so it’s at my house, sorry.”

“No worries, Arch, it’s not a big deal. I know where you live.”

He laughs at her lame joke. “I want to hear all about your internship, and I have so much to tell you too, but I gotta get back to the team.”

“You can sit with us for a bit, if the guys don’t mind. We’re aren’t staying much longer, my mom wants me home in time for cake or something,” Betty tells him.

He scratches the back of his neck and she sees red start to bloom on his skin. “Uh, nah, I don’t want to be rude. You guys have a good rest of your night, all right? I’m so glad you’re home, I missed you,” he says with another hug before jogging off to sit with the football team.

Just as he disappears, Jughead returns. “Hey, you ready to go? I don’t want to piss your mom off on your birthday.”

Betty turns with her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I was about to pay, but—”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Jughead Jones. Why are you and Archie not talking?”

“Who says we aren’t talking?” he questions while dropping some ruffled green bills on the table. “Here, you should take my flannel, the temperature dropped a little bit,” he suggests and is already holding it up for her to put on.

“Okay, if my observation was uncalled for before, it’s definitely not now. What’s going on?” she demands.

“Nothing, can we go? Your mom has cake waiting.”

Betty puts her arms through the black and white flannel and lets Jughead drag her out of the diner. When they hit the street Betty tugs on his hand to pull them to a halt.

“Betts—”

“No, I can do this now that we’re not in public: Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, what is going on with you and Archibald Andrews?” she demands.

“Hey, you didn’t say his full name! How come I get the full name treatment?”

“Because, I have a lot more power over you, and he’s not here.”

“Betty, it’s nothing. Really, we just—it’s nothing, okay?”

“Is this about how the trip during the fourth of July got cancelled? I mean, I was pissed too, but our parents wouldn’t let you come alone, but he got sick, it’s not like it was his fault,” she insists.

“It’s your birthday, can we do this tomorrow?”

“No, it’s my birthday, so I say you tell me now. What’s going on, Forsythe—”

“Stop with the full name, will you? Jeez,” he mumbles with a shudder. “And it’s—it’s between Archie and I, and you have to respect that. It’s our issue, you’re my soulmate, his best friend, we don’t want you in the middle.”

“I am in the middle, I’m your soulmate, and he’s _our_ best friend. So maybe I’ll be objective and can tell you both you’re stupid so you’ll get over it before school starts.”

“Or, you can let us handle it as big boys and the adults we’re growing up to be?” he suggests.

“You’re really not going to tell me?”

“Betty, it’s not a big deal. He’s been busy with work, I’ve been busy with work and my dad, we’ll resolve it on our own time, in our own way. Okay?”

“No, not okay, tell me what happened and I’ll have it resolved by tomorrow. School starts in a week, I don’t want this still going on and—”

“Betty, please, just—I love you, but stay out of it, please, okay?” he pleads.

Betty considers his tired face and sighs. “I hate this. We’re the three musketeers.”

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep things as normal as possible, okay? You have my word.”

She nods before getting up on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly. “You know in a couple days I’ll be driven mad by the unknown and start to annoy you again, right?” she asks as they begin walking again, her suitcase rolling along behind them.

“Yeah, but I’m free of that for now, so,” he stops and shrugs. “Do you think your mom made the cake or bought it? She’s a damn good cook, but you’re definitely the baker in the family.”

Betty lets his change of subject slide and drops whatever is going on between him and Archie.

For now.

It’s not until over an hour later when Jughead is out the front door (with a promise to climb through her window later) that Betty can ask about her sister.

Upon coming home and seeing no Polly, Betty opened her mouth to ask what happened, but Alice Cooper gave her an infamous head shake that meant ‘not now’ and Betty knew not to poke the bear right then, even if it was her birthday.

“Well, he’s gone, even if he is family and should have been privy to the following conversation, because I’m going to tell him anyways, so I’m asking. Where’s Polly? You disconnected her phone more than three weeks ago, I haven’t talked to her in a month. Did you give her the letters I sent? She hasn’t been active on the internet or—”

“What Polly does is no longer up to us,” Alice interrupts.

“We haven’t had control over what Polly does in a long time,” her dad adds on.

“Can we stop being so cryptic? Is she okay? Where is she? Is the most intense quiet game going on or—”

“Polly isn’t here,” her mom cuts in again.

“Okay, where is she? Did you send her to Grandma’s or—”

“We gave her a choice, Betty, and she made one,” Hal tells her.

Betty feels her fists close, but manages to resist the urge to dig her nails in. “Can you just tell me where she is? What’s going on?”

“What do you think happened, Elizabeth? That damn Blossom boy, he—he,” her mom stops and turns away because showing negative emotion like this is not the Cooper way, in private or not.

“What did he do to her?” Betty demands, stepping forward with a hand over her heart. If Jason Blossom hurt her—Betty would gladly rip the redhead’s heart out.

“He took her away from us,” her dad says softly as he wraps his arms around her mom and the action is something so small, so simple, but so gentle and unusual for her parents that Betty is taken aback. They don’t usually show any kind of PDA, minimal or not.

“She left us for the Blossom’s,” Alice tells her, now turning back, her moment apparently over.

“You said she made a choice. So what, you just—you told a seventeen year old girl to pick between her boyfriend and her strict parents and expected the outcome to go in your favor? She’s… she’s Polly. She’s stubborn and leads with her heart and you just let her go? She’s not even an adult, she’s not thinking clearly, I mean,” Betty stops and sits on a dining room chair to collect herself.

“Betty, it’s not that simple. There are other factors—”

“Yeah, me! I’m the key factor here, and you sent me away!”

“No, you made a choice—!”

“Like Polly did? A choice that felt like mine, but was really orchestrated by you? Like everything in this family always is?” Betty questioned.

“Watch what you’re saying Betty,” her dad insists, his voice low and firm, a tone he only uses when her mother is under fire. “We are your parents and so deserve respect.”

“But you can’t—” Betty stops and stands again. “You can’t raise us to be strong and independent like you, then be angry when we want to assert that independence. I learned so much this summer, Mom, so much and parts of it were overwhelming in the best way, but most of the time I just wanted to be here. I wanted to be home with Jughead, painting my nails crazy colors with Polly, drawing on Archie’s face when he falls asleep first, and trying to get a byline at the Register. But I was gone because I felt like I had to do this internship to please you, to have an opportunity you never did, to never let you down. I was gone and I wasn’t here to keep the peace, to keep Polly in this family—”

“Polly made herself a new family,” her mom confesses, her eyes full of tears. “Polly got pregnant and we told her,” she stops to attempt to collect herself. “We told her to be smart, to not let this ruin her life, but she chose the Blossom’s, Betty. She chose that horrid family over her own flesh and blood.”

“Polly’s pregnant?” Betty whispers more to herself than her parents. “And, you told her—what did you want her to do?”

“Betty,” Hal murmurs with a ‘tsk’ in his voice, like she asked a stupid question.

“I can’t believe this—Polly’s in love with Jason and she got pregnant, and you expected her to just want to, what? Give it up for adoption, have an abortion? It’s her body, her baby, that makes it her decision,” Betty states forcefully.

“You think Polly’s responsible enough to raise a baby? She wasn’t responsible enough to not get knocked up! And you are going on the pill!” Alice tells her with a finger point.

“So that was it, huh?” Betty asks with a shrug. “You told her to get an abortion or get out?”

“We approved of adoption as well,” her father informs her, like that makes it okay.

“You just,” Betty stops and almost wants to laugh at the audacity of her parents. “You don’t get it. Polly’s your daughter! She’s your child, you’re supposed to be there for her, take care of her, and you tossed her aside for not doing what you wanted?”

“It’s not that simple,” Hal insists.

“It is though,” Betty tells him. “She’s your daughter, my sister, and you gave her up. You disconnected her phone, probably took all her electronics, did you even let her pack a bag, or did you just throw her out on the porch?”

“That’s enough, get upstairs, now,” Alice orders. “I won’t have you acting like this isn’t hard for you father and me as well.”

“Was it? Or did Polly break the image of the perfect Cooper family and it was a necessary evil to save face?”

“I said upstairs,” Alice roars and Betty flinches at the ferocity.

She shakes her head before ascending the steps two at a time, her hands in fists. In the throes of executing a full-on teenage tantrum she slams the door behind her, and squeezes her eyes shut.

How could they just turn their backs on her like that? Polly’s their firstborn, their daughter, and they let her go? Disowned her just like that?

Having one door between them didn’t feel like enough and so Betty goes into the bathroom and slams that one for good measure. She slides down to the floor and tries to keep her composure, but it’s impossible. Tears stream down her face as she muffles the sobs into her knees.

Polly’s gone? Moved out? Into that horrible castle they call Thornhill? That is a place ghost stories are made of. There were multiple urban legends in Riverdale about Thornhill—kids went in and never came out, the family members buried there haunted the grounds, the statues and gargoyles were real people that the Blossom’s hated and cured into stone, the list goes on and on, and Polly was _living_ there?

Polly used to hold a flashlight to her chin under a blanket and tell Betty stories that made her almost wet the bed.

They were supposed to have one more year.

One more year before Polly left home for college. One more year together doing makeovers and giggling about their boyfriends. One more year of eating junk food during their periods and crying over stupid Lifetime movies. One more year of having someone in each other’s corner, knowing no matter what their parents did or said, they had someone on their side.

Polly said she would be okay, that Betty shouldn’t be worrying about her, that it should be the other way around.

“I’m the big sister,” she had said after Betty climbed into her bed the day before she left for Boston. “I’m supposed to worry about you, tell you to be safe, to hold a key between your fingers when you walk alone at night and to be smart,” she told her and smiled at her in a way that always made Betty feel calm. “I’m going to be fine with Mom and Dad, Betty. You go and experience everything you can. This is chance for you to get out from under their thumb like I always wanted. Don’t you pass it up because of me, don’t you dare.”

Polly said they would talk every day, and for about a month they did. They spoke once a day and sometimes even Facetimed, even if just for a few minutes. Then Betty had a busy day and realized she’d texted Jughead all day, but hadn’t heard from her sister. She called and there was no answer. She called again and again still with no answer.

Then, the next morning her phone was disconnected. Her Facebook deactivated. Her Instagram and Twitter silent.

Betty asked her parents what was going on, but was stonewalled every time. She wrote letters, asked Jug and Archie to look for her, to pass along messages, but they never saw her. Her letters went unanswered. Another phone number never supplied. Her parents deflected every question, gave her vague no-nonsense answers, and it was enough that Betty gave up.

She was to be home in a month, they would figure it out then.

But now they couldn’t. Her parents kicked her out, told her to choose between them and her child, and she chose the baby growing inside her. It’s a choice Betty supports, but did Polly think she wouldn’t? Is that why she hasn’t reached out?

Betty doesn’t realize that her hands are bleeding until she opens her eyes and sees the smudges on her jeans.

Quickly, she pulls out her cell phone and with shaking hands she presses her boyfriend’s smooshed face in the ‘favorites’ section of her contacts. It was a picture Kevin took of him, her hands squishing his cheeks together. He _hated_ the picture, but she adored it.

He answers after one ring. “That was fast.”

“Juggie, I need you,” she manages and swallows the knot in her throat and it makes her ache.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he says instantly. “I’ll be there in a—fuck,” he stops and there’s a crash. “A minute, okay?”

“Can we stay on the phone?” Betty whispers, it comes out more of a squeak.

“I only went to the treehouse, I’m literally almost there, just hold on for me.”

“My window should be unlocked. I’m—I’m in the bathroom,” she tells him. Betty scoots away from the door and leans against the sink so he can get in.

“I’m about to climb up and I need two hands, but I’ll be with you in less than sixty seconds, okay?” he promises and Betty nods even though he can’t see her and lets her phone drop when the line goes dead.

It’s only a moment before the door bursts open and Jughead’s panting in front of her. “Shit, I’m out of shape,” he dramatically wheezes, probably for her benefit.

Betty attempts to laugh, but it comes out a sob and quickly the door is shut behind him and he’s on her knees in front of her.

“C’mere,” he murmurs as he drops to his butt and lifts her into his lap so her legs are crisscrossed behind his back. “I’m here, and I have you, alright?”

Betty melts into his chest and lets herself finally really cry. Her body is wracked with sobs and she can’t hold them in, but she doesn’t have to. She knows she can unravel with Jughead and he’ll take care of her, that’s something she never has to worry about.

How could they just let Polly go?

Jughead rocks her back and forth, one of his hands rubbing up and down her back, the other holding her hands between them, making sure they aren’t digging in anymore.

She’s completely limp in his lap, her hands included. He has that effect on her, to make her pain feel shared, more manageable, like it will never fully consume her because he won’t allow it.

“It’s Polly, isn’t it?”

Betty nods against his collarbone, her cries now lessened to sniffles.

Jughead gives her temple a series of kisses and uses both arms to hold her tight, apparently now sure she won’t hurt herself. “Is she okay? Polly?”

“She’s pregnant. They told her to get rid of it or get out,” she supplies. “She moved in with the Blossom’s.”

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” he murmurs against her skin. “That’s… not right.”

“I’m proud of her,” Betty admits while pulling away and wiping her face. “She did what was best for her and the baby. She did the right thing, the same thing I would have done in that position.”

“I know.”

“How could they just give her up like that? And why hasn’t she tried to contact me? Doesn’t she know I’m always on her side? She’s my sister—” Betty chokes out and wills herself to stop crying, to stop feeling so weak.

“Maybe she didn’t want to put you in the middle,” Jughead offers, his forehead resting on hers. “I never wanted Jellybean in the middle.”

“But I’ve always been in the middle, what makes this different?”

“I don’t—I don’t know,” he sighs. “But, I promise I’ll help you figure it out. We’ll ask around for her new number, try to get Cheryl to notice we exist, but honestly what help will she really be? She likes to play with people’s emotions rather than help. Hell! We can get straight to the point and sneak into Thornhill, I’m down for a little breaking and entering.”

Betty can’t help but chuckle as she attempts to clean herself up. Makeup is probably streaking down her face, and after crying so hard she has a headache, plus feels gross from traveling.

“You’d really storm Thornhill’s gates for me?” she asks, her voice light and eyes blinking.

“How many times do I have to tell you I’d do anything for you? Just like you’d do anything for me,” Jughead murmurs while bumping their noses together. Betty opens her mouth, but he cuts her off before she even begins. “Except tell you what’s going on with me and Archie. Boundaries, babe,” he adds on as an afterthought.

Betty shakes her head at him. “I wasn’t going to even mention that,” she insists. “I was going to ask if you would shower with me, since you said you’d do anything,” she informs him. “I feel gross and… I want to be close to you.”

“Baby, this is one of those things where if I ever say no something is wrong with me,” he tells her.

She smiles weakly, then just holds her arms up like a little kid. Jughead takes the hint and slips her shirt off.

They undress each other innocently and Betty gets the shower ready before stepping in and holding a hand out to Jughead for him to join her, that she’s sure this is what she wants to happen, because she knows he worries.

He closes the shower door behind him and Betty pulls him under the warm spray, their hair becoming matted to both their heads, and goosebumps breaking out over their skin.

“What do we do now?” Betty asks softly with her lips grazing over his heart, and she lightly kisses their golden crown splashed across his heart.

“What we always do,” he responds as he cups her jawline with his now large, strong hands. “Figure it out. Together.”

*

So many things had changed when Betty was gone. It made her wish she never went to Boston, never left when things at home were so fragile, apparently in more ways than one.

Polly was unreachable, for now. Thornhill was serious business, it even had security, and just showing up was last on the list of her ideas for how to get in contact with Polly. Her and Jug were likely to be strip searched or just thrown out on their asses, hopefully the latter in all honesty.

Betty wasn’t even sure the situation with Polly was fixable, but all she really wanted was her sister back, in some shape or form.

But the situation with Archie and Jug? That was tangible, that was something she could fix, because boys are stupid and Archie is so much more easily crackable than Jughead. However, it does take almost a week to get Archie to hang out with her because it’s like he knows she’s going to try and do something about it.

“I can’t believe our sophomore year starts tomorrow, can you believe it?” he asks as soon as they sit down and after they nodded to Pop for their usual’s.

“I can’t believe it took a week for you to finally hang out with me,” Betty counters and gets that signature Archie eye-roll and wide smile combo in return. “I was gone for two months and you treat me like some old, tossed aside… I don’t know, football or something.”

He reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. “I missed you, Betty, I did, you know I did,” he assures her. “Not in the same way as Jughead, and probably not as much, to be honest, but I did. I was busier than him though, so,” he stops and shrugs as he slouches in the booth. “Tell me all about it. I can’t believe you met Toni Morrison! You must have freaked.”

“I did, I really did, you would have laughed at me,” she agrees.

Of course, things changed with Archie too, because why wouldn’t they? Everything changed when she was gone and she wasn’t around to see any of it, or prevent any of it.

But Archie’s change is good, at least Betty thinks so. He has a great voice, which she is aware of since she has continued the joy of overhearing him belt out boyband songs when their windows are open. Plus, he’s putting his guitar lessons to good use, and it’s another thing to help keep him out of trouble and hopefully it means he won’t fall in love every other month like he usually does.

She waits until dessert to make her move, because it’s only polite to make small talk and catch up first.

“I can’t take it anymore, what’s going on with you and Jug?” she demands, and must have been louder than she thought because Archie jumps in surprise.

“Betty…”

“No, don’t you ‘Betty’ me, Archibald, it took me a week to get you to hang out with me because we can’t all hang out together—”

“Hey now, that’s not true. I’ve been busy with football practice, and I just told you I’m working on music. It takes a lot of dedication, especially since I’m getting into it late in the game,” he insists.

“No, no don’t do that. We’ve always been busy, Arch. I have a million extra-curriculars, you have sports and girls, and Jughead has me and his isolation stuff, but we always managed to get together. Even if it meant we were all just sitting in the same room quietly because we have stuff going on. I’m keeping us together throughout high school and beyond, okay? And I won’t have you and Jug ruin it over some stupid boy fight, I won’t!” she told him, getting more forceful as she went.

“Betty, it’s not on you to—”

“But it is!” she cuts him off and realizes she’s getting worked up and her nails are resting on her scabs ready to sink in.

No, she wasn’t going to do that. She was going to be vocal and use her words and learn to cope better like her and Jug talked about. Or, started talking about at least. It’s a process.

“Betty—”

“We’re best friends, Archie, not just the two of us, not just him and me and not just you and him. All three of us are best friends, the three musketeers, and I don’t want it ruined. You two are,” she stops and sighs. “You two are my family and I don’t… sometimes I feel like you guys are all I have and,” she looks down to stare at her angry yellow scabs. “I can’t lose you.”

“Betty, hey,” he murmurs and she looks up, not realizing tears welled up in her eyes. “Jughead and I aren’t going anywhere, I promise.”

She wipes her nose and nods. “I don’t want you to think I’m being selfish,” she admits.

“Betty, you are the least selfish person I know,” he assures her. “Don’t worry, just give us some time and we’ll figure it out. I’ll be better, I’ll make sure we spend more time together and nothing changes too much, alright? Our friendship is a priority; believe me when I say that.”

“I do,” she whispers and sniffles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” she apologizes, and he gives her a look. “Okay, I did, but I didn’t mean to cry as I did.”

“No worries, one of my best friends being a girl has made me very in touch with my emotions,” he teases.

“Arch, sometimes I think you’re too in touch with emotions,” Betty responds and he laughs, but stops abruptly after the bell above Pop’s door rings. Archie seems like he’s enchanted, or under some spell.

Betty turns and sees a brunette around their age entering the diner. She’s wearing all black and even from far away Betty can tell the pearls around her neck are expensive.

“I’m here to pick up an order for Lodge,” she announces as Pop walks by her.

“Two burgers, be ready in one sec,” the old man assures her.

The girl looks over at the two of them and, of course, Archie is still mesmerized. “How are the onion rings here, if you don’t mind my asking?” she asks.

Archie’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“They’re great,” Betty speaks up. “Everything here is amazing.”

The girl smiles. “Thanks, some onion rings too, please!” she calls over to Pop, who nods. “I’m Veronica Lodge,” she introduces herself.

Betty’s eyes fill with know. She should have known, or at least guessed. The school called her two days ago. “Oh, I’m Betty Cooper, I’ll be your peer mentor this year, I guess,” she tells her.

“I prefer the term ‘friend,’” Veronica insists with a kind smile.

“Friend, okay,” Betty agrees and they both look to Archie who is still staring. “This is Archie Andrews.”

“Archie… Andrews,” he echoes and licks his lips. He holds his hand out and Veronica takes it to shake, and that’s when Betty notices delicate white gloves on the raven-haired girl’s hands.

“Well, Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews, I guess I’ll be seeing you,” she says and is gone as fast as she came.

As Betty literally watches Archie drool at her silhouette, she can’t help but think that she better get used to change, because this year is going to bring a lot of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline is going to slow for the time being because I have a good bit planned for them at these ages and it's when we see them on the show, so, yeah.
> 
> Welcome to the fun, Veronica Lodge ;)
> 
> lemme know your thoughts!!


	8. Holding Onto Yourself the Best You can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, alright, I'm sorry it took another month for me to update. I work in retail and with the holidays I'm pretty swamped at work and when I get home all I want to do is sleep (and watch Criminal Minds - I'm on a binge). 
> 
> Anywho, thanks for sticking with me and reviewing and everything you all do that encourages me to write this story and get out of my own head and depression to do it. You're all the bomb.com
> 
> As always, a shoutout to Jandy @jandjsalmon who deals with me on the daily. She deserves a shiny tiara because she's the queen of patience and wisdom. 
> 
> FYI - probably won't be another chapter until after the holidays because, well, don't they keep us all busy? I hate retail. But I love you all!

     “With routine yearly censuses, and a more detailed one taken at the beginning of each decade, scientists who specialize in soulmarkings are now able to study all different kinds of relationships pertaining to them…

Now, with more kinds of couplings to study more than ever, the effects of marks on the body has become a topic for discussion. We are starting to see scientists using these censuses to ask about mental and physical health to see if, as in almost all areas of our lives, marks are affecting those too.

Are those who mark happier than those who don’t? Are illnesses more prone to someone who is the product of an unnatural coupling? With the data only beginning to be collected now, it is unknown, but time will tell.”

From _Soulmarks and Statistics,_ 2016

*

Betty stares at the shirt she _wanted_ to wear lying neatly on her bed—a white spaghetti strapped top that is flowy and cute, but not inappropriate for school. The only problem is that it would show her soulmark and so she can’t wear it.

Instead, she’s wearing a sheer light pink top that has gray circles on it and buttons at her chest, so it will safely cover her golden crown. She matches it with a white cardigan, dark blue pencil leg jeans, and gray ankle boots. Her hair is in its signature ponytail with her make up subtle, as usual. Nothing that her mother could find fault with.

It’s the first day of school and Betty’s hoping Polly will be there. She still has to graduate, right? Or at least go until the baby is born? Baby or not, Polly wouldn’t let it sideline her education, would she?

“Betty!” her mom calls from downstairs, her voice too-high, a tell for how guilty she’s been feeling since their fight a week ago. “Breakfast!”

Betty rolls her eyes and reaches for her powder blue knapsack-style backpack before exiting her bedroom, but not before she gives a fleeting look at the white top.

One day soon, hopefully.

“I made pancakes!” her mom announces as Betty hits the bottom step.

“I’m not hungry, first day jitters,” Betty says as she makes her way to the door.

“Wait!” her dad exclaims and suddenly both of her parents are behind her. “We have a surprise for you!”

“Okay, can we do it later? I have to show the new student around and—” she stops when her dad hands her a square box with a white bow on top. “What is this?”

“A present, silly,” her mom insists and Betty resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Open it!”

Betty does as she’s told—anything to get out of the house sooner. Her mouth drops open as the box contains a key fob and it’s undoubtedly for a car that neither of her parents own. “Um?”

“Come outside and see!” Alice urges and turns Betty around as her dad opens the door. In the driveway sits a seafoam green Mini Cooper. “Ta-da!”

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out as she blinks.

“What do you think?” Hal asks as he slaps his hands together excitedly.

“I—I think I’m only fifteen,” she answers awkwardly.

“Yes, well, we thought if you’re going to get your permit, you might as well practice on the car you’ll drive when you get your license. It just makes so much sense this way, don’t you think?”

Betty hands the box to her dad and continues her way down the walkway.

“Don’t be rude! Elizabeth, come back here,” her mother orders as she stalks down after her.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Betty states and turns on her parents. “I—you can’t buy me with a car I can’t even drive yet. This… this isn’t even in the realm of okay, and if you think it is then—I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Elizabeth, we aren’t trying to buy you, I can’t believe—”

“I never asked for a car, Mom, never,” Betty interrupts. “It’s beautiful and a lovely gift, but honestly, I don’t want it. Not like this, not because we’re in a fight, not because you’re trying to overcompensate, and not when it should have gone to Polly, which is who I’m sure it was intended for as a first day of school thing and a stop-dating-Jason wish. No thank you,” she states.

“Betty!” her dad calls after her, but she just continues walking hurriedly down the sidewalk and away from the insanity that has become her home life.

Usually on the first day of school she walks to school with Jughead and Archie on each arm, both laughing at her as she talks about all the new school supplies she bought—the pretty colored binders, the pencils they both will steal, highlighters she’ll lose on her own, and a planner that will be her saving grace throughout the year.

However, this year she has a new student to show around and that means getting to school earlier than usual, so she can show Veronica where all her classes are, answer any questions, and just familiarize her with how Riverdale High works.

It turns out to be a blessing, she thinks, because she probably couldn’t get Archie and Jughead together without some sort of injury the way the two boys have been acting.

And if she can’t walk with both, she doesn’t want to walk with either one.

After doing her initial peer mentor duties with Veronica, she leaves the girl with Kevin and essentially runs off a few minutes before the first bell to wait in the Blue and Gold office for Jug. It’s an action Alice Cooper would not approve of, and in any other circumstance Betty would have stayed with Veronica right up until the first bell, but—

Her thought is cut off by the door opening and her boyfriend filing in.

Betty almost bulldozes into him, her head tilted up, eyes wide, small pout—the face she makes when she wants the last of his dessert, and it has yet to fail her.

“Oh, baby, don’t look at me like that,” Jughead says as his hands move to cup her jawline.

“So…” she whispers and he gives one shake of his head, making her face fall. “No?”

“I’m sorry, baby, but no. I waited in the student lot and Cheryl pulled up in Jason’s red Corvette, but no Jason, and you know Cheryl—”

“If Jason is around, she’s within ten feet,” Betty finishes. “And if Jason isn’t here, Polly isn’t either.”

“I followed her too,” Jughead offers. “That sounds horrible, but I did, just in case. I went from the lot to her locker to the student lounge to waiting outside the bathroom for-literally-ever, and back to her locker before I saw the time. I’m sorry, Betts, it looks like Polly isn’t going to be in school this year.”

“Don’t look so guilty, Juggie, it’s not your fault,” Betty sighs before collapsing against his chest. “Thank you for doing some sleuthing for me, especially since it was Cheryl. I know you’re not her biggest fan—”

“Oh, you mean like the rest of this school fucking is? I don’t have a problem with Cheryl personally, I mean I think her personality sucks, but it’s just what she represents. High school hierarchy is—”

“Jughead, now, really?” Betty questions.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbles. “Any idea what you want to try next?”

“Not talking to my parents, that’s for sure. They bought me a car.”

Jughead’s eyes widen. “A car? Like a real one?”

“As opposed to a fake one?”

“I don’t know, it could be like the Barbie one you had when we were kids,” he counters.

“Jughead, they got me a real, adult car. It’s a mint green Mini Cooper, the car Polly begged for, in her favorite color, and they tried to give it to me like I wouldn’t see right through it. I’m only fifteen, I can’t drive, I don’t want to drive, I’d much rather walk or be on the back of your motorcycle,” she admits.

“Really? You’d ride with me?” he asks, surprised..

“Jughead, priorities this morning, please,” Betty pleads. “Did you sleep? Were you up all night playing video games? I told you to—” now she’s cut off by the first bell. “Dammit.”

“Language, Cooper, c’mon. You can yell at me at lunch, alright? I’ll walk you to your first class and be late for mine because I love you that much,” he states while opening the door for her.

“Uh-huh, like you’re Father Time or something,” she mutters and shrieks when he slaps her ass as she passes him. “Jughead Jones!”

“Be nice or I’ll make you late too,” Jughead warns and wraps his arms around her shoulders from behind as they walk, slowing her down significantly.

“Juggie!” she laughs and rather than fight the hold, just leans back into him.

“Betty,” he murmurs in her ear and it makes her shiver. “I felt that.”

“Shut up,” she mutters and he barks out a laugh. “Alright, hurry up, I do want to get to class before the bell rings, Father Time.”

“Please never call me any form of Father ever again, especially during intimate moments,” Jughead says.

They stop in front of her class and Betty gives him a peck, one that he chases, but she puts a hand up to his lips. “School grounds, no PDA,” she reminds him. “I’ll see you at lunch, Daddy,” she says and he groans as the bell rings.

“You’ll pay for that!” he informs her as he walks away and Betty just giggles as she walks into her classroom, thankful her soulmate is Jughead Jones because she’s the luckiest person on the planet.

Betty doesn’t see him again until lunch, as predicted with them not sharing any classes in the morning, and she finds him sitting outside at a lunch table with his head buried in his arms looking like he’s sleeping, which is impressive since he could have only been there for five minutes, max. She makes a beeline for the table he’s claimed, Veronica and Kevin trailing behind her deep in conversation about an Elton John party she attended in New York.

Kevin may be gay, but that’s not stopping him from falling at Veronica’s feet.

“Oh, is this,” Veronica starts with hesitation, “is this where we are sitting, then?”

Betty sets her tray down next to Jug, who doesn’t make any movement in acknowledgment that she, or anyone else, is there. She shakes her head and smiles before sitting down. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this,” she assures her new friend.

Kevin just rolls his eyes at her antics and digs into his own lunch while Veronica does the same thing, only warily. It’s fair, she’s never met Jughead before, and he doesn’t look like the marshmallow that he is. From an outsider’s point of view the boy wearing mostly black and a weird beanie on his head could be a cause for concern, but to Betty that stupid hat has always been a sign of safety, the symbol of home.

Betty lifts his arm and sticks her head underneath. His saddle-style backpack isn’t the best pillow, but with his childhood, she knows he can sleep through pretty much anything and in any position.

Even in the darkness, she can see a lazy smile form on Jughead’s face. “Are you thinking of joining us in the land of the living?” she murmurs, blowing hot puffs of air in his face due to the lack of room, but his smile only grows wider.

Jughead simply burrows in closer, his eyes drifting closed as he takes in a deep breath. “You smell nice,” he tells her.

“That’s sweet, baby, but it’s not gonna stop me from doing this,” she says while slipping her always-cold hands underneath his t-shirt.

As she thought, he jumps and glowers as a string of curse words spills from his lips. “Fuck, that is not cool.”

“I told you not to stay up late playing video games!” Betty reminds him. “Fair’s fair.”

“I owe you twice now, you’re gonna regret it,” he warns and stands.

“Uh-huh, go get your lunch or else you’ll be even grumpier for the rest of the day,” she insists.

“Fine, but I’m not sharing,” he mumbles before walking away much like a child who had just been punished.

“A friend of yours?”

Betty smiles and sticks a fork into the salad she bought. “You could say that.”

“Oh, look,” Veronica gasps a second later. “There’s that guy you were with last night. A redheaded Ansel Elgort, I think.”

“You do? I see him more of a Zac Efron myself,” Kevin sighs dreamily.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Veronica asks while still looking at Archie, who is sitting with the football team across the knoll.

“No, he’s straight,” Kevin answers as Betty turns back around to face her friends again.

She lets out a long breath and stares at her salad. Archie should be sitting with them like he does every year. Sure, he goes to see the football team during lunch, but he always sits with her and Jug. She hates this stupid fight the boys are in and how it feels like she’s on Jughead’s side because she’s seen him more and they’re doing most of their usual first-day things.

It doesn’t matter that Jughead’s her boyfriend—she doesn’t intend to take a side even when she finds out what is going on. Betty’s taking Archie’s longtime stance and is being Switzerland.

“Betty?” she’s broken from her thoughts by Veronica. Her eyebrows raise in confusion. “Is he yours?”

“Me? And Archie?” Betty questions, her mouth shifting into a grimace. “No, no, no, no. No.”

“That’s a lot of denial there, have a crush?” the dark-haired girl asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, just a long history,” Betty answers. “He’s like my brother. We grew next door to each other.”

“If he’s not gay and he’s not with you, what’s his story?” Veronica wonders aloud.

“Archie? He doesn’t have one, really. He’s your typical high school boy, on the football team, liked by most people, falls in love every other week, you know,” Betty says with a shrug.

“Oh?” Veronica says with a deciding nod. “I see.”

“No, I mean, he’s a great guy, he just wears his heart on his sleeve,” Betty corrects herself.

“Mommy issues, I think,” Kevin speaks up again.

“Kev!” Betty exclaims.

“What? We all have Mommy issues if you ask me. I do, you do, Jughead does, Archie does, so what’s the big deal?”

“So? It’s just not something you openly talk about, Kev, and here he comes so shut up!” she orders and smiles as her best friend approaches. “Arch! Hey! How’s your first day going?”

“Eh, it’s school,” he answers with his signature Archie grin. “Yours? You love the first day.”

“Well, I haven’t had any classes with you, but I had one with Kevin, and I have one with Veronica _and_ you later, and then the Blue and Gold with Jug so there’s that. I do love the first day but they’re always so fake. You never know how a teacher is going to be for a couple weeks, you know? And—”

“Betty, you’re rambling,” Archie points out and she laughs. “What about you, Veronica? How are you liking Riverdale High?”

“It’s… intriguing,” Veronica answers with a flirty grin. “I find there is always a dirty underbelly no matter how shiny something may seem. What about you, Archie?”

“Me? I’m pretty transparent,” he tells her and Kevin snorts from across the table. “Kevin, how’s it going?” he asks with a wink.

“Oh, you know,” Kevin says with a wide grin, always one for attention. “Summer was good to you, Andrews,” he adds on.

“It wasn’t harsh on you either,” Archie tells him, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“I work out, you know,” Kevin insists and Betty snickers. “Shut up, I do! Just because you can run in any terrain without breaking a sweat doesn’t mean I don’t work out just because I appear to be dying. You’re the anomaly, Cooper.”

“You’re telling me,” Jughead appears next to her with a tray full of food. “What did I miss?”

“Well, let me see, Archie and Betty are next-door-neighbors, they are best friends, but not dating. Both their first days are going well, but she likes school more. Kevin and Archie’s summers both did something to their physiques, and Betty works out a lot—but that last part I knew, because damn, those legs girl,” Veronica lists off. “I think that’s it.”

“Oh, so everything I knew already, cool,” he says with a shrug before digging in.

“Me and Betty? Dating? Was that a joke?” Archie laughs and Betty smacks him in the stomach. “Ow, what?”

“I think it’s gross too, but a girl has feelings, you know,” she mumbles.

“Isn’t that what Jughead is for?” Archie questions.

They all look at Jughead who just ‘humphs’ with his mouth full before swallowing. “What? I wasn’t paying attention,” he says while wiping his mouth.

“Wow, Betty must find you so hot right now,” Kevin state, making the table erupt in laughter.

“Wait, are you two dating?” Veronica asks. “I feel like I showed up in the middle of a movie and have no idea what is going on.”

“Them? They’ve been dating since the day they met,” Archie answers like it should be universally known.

“Shut up!” Veronica exclaims in a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Who can resist that face?” Betty says while grabbing onto his cheeks, which was less than attractive because he had some food in his mouth.

“I could. Sorry, buddy,” Kevin admits with a smile.

Jughead just salutes since his mouth is busy chewing.

“But you’re joking, right? You haven’t been dating since the day you met, have you?” Veronica questions.

“Yep, I was four, he was five, and I told him he was mine and here we are,” Betty summarizes, looking fondly at the boy beside her.

“Stockholm Syndrome,” Jughead argues, then yelps. “Stop with the cold hands!” he exclaims, pushing her fingers out from underneath his t-shirt. “This is why I wear so many layers, you are an icicle.”

Betty just smiles at him, it’s wide and unashamed because she’s still completely obsessed with his cuteness even though they’ve been together for so long. “Veronica Lodge, this is Jughead Jones, my hostage, apparently,” she introduces.

“Jug-head? What is that?” Veronica questions with a raised eyebrow.

“My name,” he answers easily, no explanation or show of him continuing the conversation further.

“It’s a nickname and a long story,” Betty fills her in.

“I’m getting a lot of that today,” Veronica sighs. “I like it though,” she goes on after a moment of thought. “Nothing is scandalous in a place like New York—everyone airs their dirty business because no one cares and there’s always someone out there who will do worse tomorrow or wants to be the center of attention. It always feels like you’re fighting to keep someone’s attention because something better is going to come along. I don’t have long stories or inside jokes with anyone besides my parents, but here,” she stops and surveys the four people at their lunch table. “Here you’ve all known each other since pre-K and secrets are kept hidden because there’s trust and a foundation. The friendships here are real. It’s extremely intimate when you think about it.”

Betty literally feels both boys become uncomfortable next to her.

“I, uh, have to get back to the football team, but I hope you all have a good rest of your day if I don’t see you,” Archie stammers while standing. “And Veronica, let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do, Archiekins, don’t you worry,” Veronica promises as the redhead smiles at her in that intimate way she was just talking about before turning his back and leaving. “Riverdale is becoming much more interesting than I originally thought,” she murmurs while staring at Archie’s back.

Betty turns to Jughead, who of course is still eating, Kevin has even given him some questionable substances he chose from the lunch line—it’s a long-running joke that Jughead doesn’t have taste buds, just a black hole where his stomach should be and that’s why he’ll eat anything. She stares at him until he notices.

Mid-chew he glances over and raises an eyebrow. “What is something on my face?” he asks after swallowing with a wince as though he hadn’t chewed enough.

“I think you mean is there something on your food,” Kevin jokes. “You should just get a tube connected to your stomach from the outside, it would be easier and,” he looks over Jughead like he’s created a mess equivalent to the cake scene from _Matilda,_ “cleaner.”

Jughead appears unamused. “You just want to see me with my shirt off, don’t you, Kev?”

“I’m certainly not opposed, but I’ve already seen the goods, Jones. I live vicariously through our lovely Betty, here,” he answers.

Jughead turns to Betty this time. “Really?”

“Hey, you are completely aware of the pictures on my phone, which only show your chest, and you even posed for one, so—”

“It was a joke!”

“It was good though, you have great bone structure in more than one place, if you know what I mean,” Kevin assures him.

“Kevin, we always know what you mean,” Betty tells him with an eye roll before continuing her staring at Jughead for different reasons than her gay best friend.

“What? Stop staring at me like that! I didn’t do anything,” her boyfriend insists.

“Exactly, you didn’t do anything, you guys didn’t even really talk. I thought you two were going to work this out,” Betty reminds him.

“We added into the same conversation, doesn’t that count?”

“I’m lost in the middle of the movie again,” Veronica sighs dramatically from her side of the table.

“Archie and Jughead are best bro-friends, you know, and they are in some kind of manly standoff and it’s driving Betty nuts,” Kevin fills her in easily. “Personally, I want to be around when it comes to a head,” he adds on and Jughead chokes on his burger as it goes down from how Kevin insinuated his latest statement.

“Just a question, when Archie and I say we’re playing video games or something does your mind just take us to some gay porno for your fantasies?” Jughead asks.

“Pretty much,” he responds. “Is that wrong?”

“Jesus, you need a boyfriend, or just a tangible crush, anything,” Jughead mumbles. “And will you stop staring at me like that, please?” he says without even looking at Betty to see if she’s doing her mixture of pleading eyes and pouty lips, which, of course, she is.

“Do something, Jughead, please, for me?” she whispers with her chin on his shoulder so her lips are close to his ear. She clasps her hands down on said shoulder to bring him closer and makes it so her mouth brushes against his lobe.

Jughead drops his food and his head rolls forward. “Don’t do the ear thing, it’s so unfair,” he mumbles but leans into her anyways.

Betty grins and kisses him right underneath the earlobe. “It’s not my fault you have an ear thing,” she murmurs, making him shiver just a little.

“Hey, we all have our things, don’t we?” he counters and squeezes a ticklish spot on her knee, making her shriek.

“Are they always like this?” Veronica asks Kevin, and Betty’s not sure if she finds them cute or gross, probably a combination of both like everyone else.

“No,” Kevin tells her and Veronica nods approvingly. “Sometimes they’re worse.”

-:-

Betty’s not quite sure how she let Veronica convince her to try out to be a River Vixen.

Yes, she wanted to be one leading up to high school, but that was before her falling out with Polly making so she didn’t try out her freshman year, and then Polly didn’t return this year, plus with a few seniors graduating, there were four spots open on the River Vixens. And, of course, because Veronica is beautiful and new that somehow makes her a shiny toy the popular kids want to make theirs, Cheryl literally approached her and personally asked her to try out.

Since she and Betty were previously engrossed in a conversation and walking with their arms linked in the hall (she’s not used to having a good girl-friend, it’s exciting), Veronica automatically assumed it was an invitation for the both of them. When Cheryl disagreed, Veronica told her that she and Betty were a package deal, shocking both the redhead and blonde alike.

Suddenly, she was trying out and not doing horrible at it either, even if she was terrified because Betty was used to being noticed for her intelligence, not for her physicality.

They were given their uniforms right away because there was no time later—practices started the next day due to the pep rally the following weekend. She’s beyond excited to be an official River Vixen, but already knows Cheryl is going to be a nightmare.

Betty’s not sure what she did to deserve or earn Veronica’s fierce loyalty and strong friendship after only a few days of knowing her, but she’s thankful and tells her so when they are taking selfies in their cheerleading outfits before Veronica pushes her on the shoulder and tells her to go show her boyfriend her “killer legs” since he’s probably waiting for her to see how it went.

(Veronica said they are destined to be best friends, and Betty doesn’t have anything to say they aren’t, nor does she want to—she already knows her so well. [And Jughead really is waiting outside to see if she made the team or not.])

That’s when she witnesses the end of Jughead and Archie talking—fighting?—in the hallway outside the gym.

They are standing toe to toe, Archie is in his own practice uniform, Jughead in his usual dark colors, matching the bags under his eyes.

“…don’t want Betty in the middle, man,” Jughead says in a low tone.

“I’m not the one who started this, Jug,” Archie reminds him, his tone the opposite of its usual happy-go-lucky.

“Really? Because the Archie I grew up with wouldn’t want Betty caught up in something she has nothing to do with feeling like a horrible friend and hurt because of some girl,” Jughead rebounds.

Betty’s eyebrows crinkle together and it feels as though her throat is about to close. Some girl? Jughead and… some girl? What?

“Jughead, everything you do has to do with Betty, and you know it, and you know you’re the one in wrong,” Archie says with a full finger-poke to the chest.

"If I’m in the wrong here, why you don’t you run off and tell Betty what really happened over the Fourth of July, huh?”

Archie’s jaw grinds down hard. “That goes both ways, Jug, do _you_ want me to tell Betty about what I saw during Fourth of July?”

Her boyfriend’s fists squeeze together, and she wonders if he’s adopting her coping mechanisms. “Dammit Archie, my business is mine, not Betty’s. All I’m asking you to do is not be so fucking weird, she misses you, you’re her best friend, dude,” he tells him.

“Really?” the redhead chuckles darkly, “and here I thought I was yours too,” he mutters before shaking his head and walking away.

Betty watches speechless, confused as to what just happened. That is until Jughead slams a fist into the locker next to him, causing to her jump and shriek.

He turns to her with wide eyes. “Betty.”

For a single moment, she’s a deer caught in the headlights, but she’s a Cooper, and Coopers can pretend everything is just fine and dandy when, in reality, it’s just the opposite.

“Shit, Jug, what did that locker ever do to you?” she asks, and then can’t help but match the smile on his face upon seeing her cheerleading uniform.

“Wow,” he breathes. “You get to keep that, right? It’s not something that has to stay on school grounds or something?”

Betty grins and skips over to him, her ponytail bouncing as she goes. “Nope, it’s all mine. I didn’t suspect you to be into the cheerleader look, Jones,” she murmurs against his lips.

“I’m pretty much into anything you wear, but especially the things that show your legs. Do you wear anything under this—”

Betty shrieks once more and pushes his hand down her thigh. “Jughead Jones! We’re on school property.”

“So, what you’re saying is later I get to explore?”

She kisses his nose. “If you’re good. Did you ever think you’d be dating a cheerleader?”

“I knew I’d always be with you, so if you’re a cheerleader then I’m with a cheerleader,” he answers easily. “But it works out because we always go to the football games for Archie, and now with you being a cheerleader I have something to actually keep my attention,” he remarked before gathering her up in a hug. “I’m so proud of you, baby. How about Pop’s to celebrate?”

“That’s your suggestion to everything,” she responds with a kiss to his cheek and let him lead her out of the school.

She’d been too guilty to admit to him she overheard their conversation, and too curious. What really happened during the Fourth of July? Archie wasn’t sick? Some _girl_ had to do with it? What wasn’t Jughead telling her?

It ate at her for the rest of the week, and so she threw herself into getting ahead in school, looking into Blue and Gold leads, learning the new layout software, and perfecting her cheerleading routine.

Betty felt like she was keeping a secret by not letting him know what she overheard, but wasn’t he keeping some from her? Sure, it may not have to do with her, and if it truly doesn’t, she would stay out of it and let the boys sort it out if that’s what they really wanted. But not knowing was driving her crazy. They are two of the most important people in her life, didn’t they trust her?

On Saturday, after her and Veronica’s (very first) sleepover, she’d asked Veronica if it was okay if her driver dropped her off at Sunnyside Trailer Park instead of home. With a wave of her hand, Veronica had Smithers headed in the direction and rattled off about the lack of shopping options in Riverdale.

Betty had hummed along with her thoughts muddled, wondering what she was going to say to Jughead. Did she bring it up? Did she let the boys actually sort it out on their own like they wanted? What part of it had to do with a girl?

With her official River Vixen’s gym bag slung over her shoulder, Betty puts one step in front of the other as she approaches her boyfriend’s trailer.

All thoughts are forgotten when she sees a girl ( _the_ girl?) sitting on one of the Jones’s rickety lawn chairs as Jughead is squatting on the ground in front of his motorcycle. He’s in dark jeans with the suspenders hanging off, and his white tank top is soaked in sweat. Even his beanie is off due to the heat.

Betty’s not used to getting jealous—ever since she was five Jughead has been irrevocably hers, something he’d agreed to without question, and it went both ways. She knows she has no reason to worry, plus to be honest, he was a boy that no girl had ever really noticed until this year. But over the summer he grew muscles and a chiseled jawline and shot up what feels like a foot to Betty.

She can’t help but stop and stare, even if just for a moment.

She knows Jughead would never do anything to hurt her. Kevin always commented on how Jughead is one of the only boys who never noticed the other girls at school—his head never turned when even Cheryl or the Pussycats strut down the halls, and Kevin is openly gay but even _his_ head turned for them. She has never actively worried about Jughead and other girls, but seeing him laughing with this girl, with his security blanket off and resting on his motorcycle’s handlebars, it’s a sight that makes Betty’s stomach coil.

Maybe it’s something about this particular girl, Betty thinks, because she seems so at ease and comfortable in her spot, like it’s something she’s done numerous times. It’s a girl people would expect to dating the black-wearing broody-looking boy.

She understands—the girl in pastel pink with virtually no skin showing and the boy layered in black isn’t a normal pair.

Betty’s not sure how long she stared but is snapped out of her thoughts by Jughead’s voice. “Betty?”

She blinks and shakes her head, forcing a Cooper smile on her face. “Hey,” she greets and urges her feet forward. She sees the girl do a double-take that makes Betty want to make a fist out of her hand.

“Did we have plans today?” he asks as he stands from his crouch and wipes off his hands with an old rag.

“No, I,” she stops once she reaches them. “Just wanted to see you,” she finishes with an awkward laugh.

Jughead smiles and leans over his bike to kiss her gently. “Is your uniform in that bag?” he murmurs against her lips.

She rolls her eyes and pushes on his shoulder playfully. “Perv,” she breathes as he laughs. “Uh, hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” she says with the utmost politeness as taught to her by Alice Cooper.

The girl stands and seems to size Betty up. Betty looks down, nervous, and recalls the romper Veronica insisted she buy earlier in the week—it’s buttoned all the way up to hide her soulmark and covered in yellow flowers, but does show off her legs, so that’s a part about it she likes.

In turn, the girl is wearing a dark blue shirt that shows a good amount of skin both below and above, matching it off with black jeans that are tied up the front like a corset.

Betty likes it, wishes she could wear it, but she’s stuck in pastel hell.

“Uh, Toni this is Betty, my girlfriend,” Jughead jumps in after the stare-down. “Betty, this is my neighbor, Toni.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” Toni questions.

“Didn’t know he had one?” Betty asks in return and gives Jug a bit of side-eye.

“Oh, no, trust me, everyone knows Jug’s practically married,” Toni jokes, Betty thinks. “I just expected more… Wednesday Adams? But I guess the whole opposites attract thing works too.” Betty opens her mouth to respond, but Toni goes on, “I gotta go, but, uh, teach him a thing or two, will you? He says you know engines, put this thing out of its misery,” she says while sending a nod Jug’s way and disappearing behind his trailer.

“If only she knew how long I’ve been trying to teach you,” Betty sighs dramatically while dropping her gym bag in the lawn chair.

“I’m getting real sick of the criticism here, from both of you, because look,” he stops and turns the key, making the engine start to rumble. “It runs, okay? Most of what I have to do now is superficial,” he says and flicks the bike off.

“Hm, really,” Betty says while swinging a leg over the machine. “I kind of like the scruffy look to it. If the bike’s too nice people will question your reputation, you’re more of the rugged kind of guy.”

“Hold that thought,” Jughead tells her while pulling out his phone and lines it up to take a picture. The shutter sound is heard multiple times before he puts it away. “That’s definite phone background material right there,” he insists before getting on behind her and turns the key again, but this time he makes the engine roar to life with a kick of his leg.

Betty can’t help but feel invigorated as he revs the engine from behind, plus his arms are around her and she can feel them flexing. “You know I can’t ride with you until you know how to drive it, right?”

Quickly, and much to her dismay, he turns the bike off and puts the kickstand down again. “Does that mean you’ll overlook my not having my license just yet?” he questions in her ear and she shivers.

“Mm, maybe if we aren’t on the open road. I have to have some morals, you know?” she responds.

Jughead barks out a laugh and gets up from behind her. “Baby, you have more morals than anyone I know, and believe me, I respect the fuck out of you for it.”

Betty smiles and gets off the bike herself. “Is your dad around?”

She sees the slight roll of his eyes. “It’s past noon and before midnight, so I’d say it’s safe to say no,” he answers.

“So, wanna go inside? With Polly pregnant I think it’s safe for _me_ to say that my parents will never go more than five minutes without knocking on my bedroom door to ask if you’re hungry, and you’ll say yes every time,” she sighs dramatically making him chuckle.

“It’s their plan to fatten me up and I’m falling right into the trap, aren’t I?”

Betty takes the hand that’s offered by him and lets him lead her into the trailer. “They know your weaknesses, Jones.” Jughead stops in front of his bedroom door and leans in for a kiss, but she leans away. “As much as I love you, babe, you need to shower because you stink.”

“Hm, you wanna join?” he murmurs against her lips without actually kissing her.

“I don’t think there’s room for two,” she whispers in response, but follows along as he backtracks into the bathroom.

“It’ll definitely be cramped quarters, but I think we’ll be able to manage,” he states confidently and kicks the bathroom door shut with his foot.

“I’m so jealous of this,” Betty sighs five minutes later because apparently, that’s how long it takes for Jughead to get the water temperature right.

(“I don’t get it, one centimeter to the left and it’s freezing, but one to the right and it’s like your skin is on fire,” he mumbles as he fiddles with the knob and she puts her hair in a perfect top-knot so it wouldn’t get wet.)

Jughead turns under the spray, now perfect, and raises an eyebrow. “What, the view of Sunnyside through the lovely window here?” he asks while motioning to the square covered by a cut-to-size shower curtain his mother had made long ago. It’s supposed to be “privacy glass” but to Betty, it looks like a regular window but in a shower. “Like who puts a fucking window in a shower?”

“Peeping Toms?” she guesses but holds up the 3-in-1 bottle in her hand. “How men can get away with this amazes me. They don’t make it for women for a reason. It doesn’t fucking work. Do you know how greasy my hair would look if I even tried this? But you, you get to spend three bucks and be done with it and your hair still looks amazing. I have to spend, like, thirty bucks just for the basics. Well, it’s my parent’s money, but you know what I mean.”

Jughead takes the bottle from her and squeezes some into his hand. “I’m glad that’s what you’re thinking about when your boyfriend is naked in front of you.”

“I can multi-task. Here, you do your hair, I’ll handle the rest,” she tells him while reaching for the loofa hanging in the corner and frown at how sad it looks, practically unraveling and hanging on by its threads—they probably haven’t gotten a new one since before his mom moved out. Betty makes a mental note to maybe make a cute bathroom basket for the boys. She can only imagine what Jughead’s hair would look like if it was treated to shampoo and conditioner separately.

“You enjoying yourself?” he asks a couple minutes later once all the soap is out of his hair.

“Why not, you are,” Betty counters, gesturing to his growing erection, but to be fair she was just ‘washing’ the area. Jughead nods in agreement, not even attempting to hide it. “Now turn, I have to do your back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says in a low tone before doing as he’s told.

She bites her bottom lip as she slides the loofa across the plains of his back, smiling unashamedly because his muscles jump under her fingers. She likes that she affects him this way, and makes a point to take her time on his backside.

“Definitely enjoying yourself,” he comments a moment later after she pinches his butt.

“Mhm, turn again, you need to wash off,” she instructs before hanging up the loofa. Betty wipes her hands over his skin to make sure the soap is washed away, then kisses their soulmark and continues to kiss down his chest until she’s on her knees.

“Betty,” Jughead moans and rests a hand on the wall as she grips onto him. “You don’t have—”

“Jug, I want to,” she assures him, then smiles. “And, I mean, why not, when everything just got cleaned.”

He lets out a laugh but then chokes on it when she swirls her tongue around his tip. It’s only tentative for a second because his moan encourages her.

Betty knows she’s still new to this, and she wants to be good at it, really good at it, for him. After Jughead admitted he’d done research, Betty did more of it on her own. Sure, her roommate during the internship gave some tips while blabbering on, but Jughead put work into making sure he pleased her and she wanted to do the same.

It surprises her initially that she likes it, doing this, but it’s not really the act she likes, it’s what the act does: make Jughead feel good.

Besides, honestly, he’s easy.

It’s only three minutes tops before he’s stuttering about coming and he jerks his hips away so he plops out of her mouth with a ‘pop’. Betty starts pumping the hand at his base until he empties himself on her chest with a low, guttural grunt.

She stands and washes him off her chest as he rides out his high. His arms lazily wrap around her from behind and nuzzles her neck, peppering it with kisses every few moments.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” she says once he seems to be back with her.

“What?” he asks while pushing on her hips until she turns around.

“Pull out like that. I mean, you get to taste me, I want to do the same,” she admits, but the lingering warmth from the shower hides the flush of her cheeks.

“Okay, but you don’t have to,” he insists. “But, about that taste thing,” he adds on while reaching a hand down between her legs.

Betty grabs onto his wrist to stop him. “Jug, as amazing as that sounds, the water’s getting a little… not so warm anymore.”

Jughead smiles. “Right, sorry, the water heater’s kind of shot. Besides, for what I want to do, it’ll be easier in a bed anyways.”

“Oh, really?” Betty giggles as he turns the shower off.

“Don’t worry, we’ll definitely try it in the shower eventually, just preferably yours, it’s bigger,” he says confidently. “Now, c’mon, I’d throw you over my shoulder, but we’re wet and you’d slip and we’d never be able to explain to your parents why we’re wet and in the ER without looking suspicious.”

“Hm, I love it when you talk to me rationally,” Betty sighs dramatically in return, then shrieks when he smacks her in the ass with the towel. “Ow, Jug!”

“Awe, want me to kiss it and make it better?” he asks before tackling her onto his bed and it’s only a minute before her laughs turn into moans and he’s right—what he had in mind was definitely easier in a bed.

Betty wakes up later to Jughead kissing down her spine. She smiles into his pillow and hums. “You know what’s the best?” she questions, her voice muffled.

“Waking up to you naked?”

She rolls onto her back, and Jughead simply continues his kisses with the new skin available to him. “That, and post-orgasm naps,” she yawns.

He smiles against her hip bone before biting at her skin, making her yelp. “Both of these are valid points,” he agrees.

Betty grabs onto a fistful of his hair, which dried in complete disarray thanks to her yanking and pulling earlier, then him falling asleep on it. It’s still so, so soft though. “I haven’t talked to my mother all day, meaning she’s due to call and request my presence at home for some good ole family torture, so I think we should talk about the real reason I came over here today.”

“Wasn’t this lovely afternoon enough for you?”

She grins and kisses his nose. “Yes, but we tell each other everything, right?”

“Is this some trick to get information on the fight between me and Archie?” he counters.

“Not really,” she answers after a moment of thought.

“Not very encouraging, babe,” Jughead tells her honestly.

“No, I just-” she stops and lets out a long breath. “I wanted you to know I overheard the tail-end of your and Archie’s fight after cheerleading tryouts. I was going to let you know I was there, but I was raised by journalists, Jug, I’m curious by nature, so I stayed quiet.”

He nods and shrugs from above her. “Uh, thanks for letting me know? I mean, I don’t exactly remember the words said, but I don’t think it was very revealing.”

“No, I know, trust me, I know,” she sighs and sits up a little. “I just—what I overheard, you said it had to do with a girl.”

Rather than respond, Jughead sits up too and leans back against the wall next to his bed.

“And that’s not very encouraging either,” Betty murmurs and fully sits up herself. “And this thing with a girl is bad?”

Jughead combs his fingers through his hair repeatedly for a minute. “Betty, I really don’t want to get into it.”

“Did you, like,” she stares at his bedroom door rather than him, “get a crush or something? I mean, it’s okay to think other girls are pretty or—”

“Betty, Betty, stop, what?” he cuts her off.

“What? Other people are attractive, it’s okay to acknowledge that.”

“Betty,” Jughead shakes his head and links his fingers through hers. “The girl thing, that’s on Archie’s end, obviously,” he assures her. “You’re my—you’re it for me, you know that. You know you never have to worry about that, right?”

“I—I never thought about it before, but then over the summer you grew a foot and muscles and even real hair on your face that you have to shave,” she reminds him. “Girls have been looking, hell, Kevin’s been looking, and when I saw you with Toni something just, I don’t know, snapped, I guess.”

“Babe, Kevin’s always looked,” he teases and succeeds in making her smile. “You know I don’t care about that shit, and I know you don’t either, or else you would have noticed all the guys staring at you too.”

“What?”

“You grew too, remember? And your face is, like, wow,” he tells her and she pushes on his shoulder. “Let’s just agree that we both have nothing to worry about, okay?”

Betty nods and wills her face to not turn red. “Sorry, I just—I don’t know,” she mumbles.

“Don’t apologize, Betts, it’s not necessary. Archie and I are putting you in a difficult situation, and you are very curious. It’s normal to try and guess, even if so incredibly wrong—ow!”

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m vulnerable!” she insists while sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m kidding, but just so you know,” he says before settling back down into his bed and bringing her with him, “Toni, she’d probably be more into you than me.”

“Ooh,” Betty acknowledges and nods. “Okay then.”

“Yeah, she broke quite a few trailer park hearts when it came out.”

“There’s something else I want to talk to you about,” she says before he leans in to kiss her.

“What did I do now?”

“Nothing, it’s me. Jug, I,” she stops and clears her throat. “I’m ready to show our marks.”

Jughead picks his head up from her shoulder and just looks at her for a moment. “Oh, okay. Is there a particular reason you want to do it now?”

“I just feel like,” she pauses, “like we’re keeping this big shameful secret when it’s the best thing that ever happened to me, I don’t want it to be hidden anymore.”

“It’s not anything we’re ashamed of, you know that. We just live in a really small town where everyone will talk and gawk and—I don’t care what other people think,” he replies.

“No, I know. I know we’re not ashamed, but just keeping this a continual secret makes it feel like that. And I’m not saying I want to show it because of girls who stare at you or boys who look at me, I’m saying it because it’s been a year and we do live in a small town. People are going to start asking questions and I don’t want to feel like I have to defend my love for you. I’ll do it, happily, if I have to, but it’d just be easier to say ‘we marked’, you know? And honestly, I want to say ‘fuck you’ to everyone who thought I was stupid for being with you all these years because of your parents or mine. I was right about us all along and it would be nice to rub it in some faces.”

Jughead doesn’t say anything, so Betty starts to get nervous.

“Plus, I—I’m changing, Jughead, and I want to show it,” she admits.

“It’s the pastel, huh?” he asks quietly.

“I’m that obvious about the disdain?” she counters, and he chuckles. “I just—I’m not the little girl my parents want to control anymore. I’m not Polly. I’m not the goody-two-shoes Cooper girl. I’m sick of wearing sweaters up to my neck and beige. I want to show I am, or who I’m becoming, and fashion is a way to do that, right?”

“Betty, I want you to do whatever makes you happy,” Jughead assures her. “And I understand that our mark is in a spot that is becoming harder to hide for you. You should be able to show who you are and what you want to wear.”

“So, you think it’s time?”

“I think it’s time for you, I just don’t know about me,” he admits.

“You don’t want to?” Betty asks in a choked voice.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Jughead promises quickly. “It’s my dad. I don’t—it’s like the one thing he thinks we have in common,” he tells her and her mouth opens in surprise. “It’s not—I don’t feed into it, I don’t want you to think he doesn’t like you or us, he just—” Jughead stops and sighs. “My dad was an athlete, he was going to use that to graduate high school and go to college, but he blew his knee and got my mom pregnant. I’m the opposite of athletic, I’m good at school, I like reading, you wouldn’t even know we were father and son except that we look alike,” he explains. “Sometimes he just makes comments on how I don’t need a mark and how I do what I want like him in that respect.”

“Oh,” Betty murmurs.

“But, I know this is had been hard for you, so—just give me some time? To tell him?”

“Of course,” she agrees, her voice small. “I just didn’t realize that it was something you bonded over.”

“It’s not, I’m sorry, I—he doesn’t have a lot to hold onto right now. Just me, you know? He doesn’t get to see JB for her birthday or Christmas, and she’s loving living in Toledo, it’s hard for him, you know?”

“Okay, I get that, it just sucks to know the one thing that makes me happier than anything else is something that will separate you and your dad even more. I don’t want that for you.”

“Betty, it’s not—I’ll figure it out. I don’t want you to feel bad or like you’re going to make anything worse for me. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, sometimes it’s just easier to let my dad think what he wants, even if it’s not the truth, but I’m going to tell him. I just need to figure out how so give me a little time and I will.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry, I feel like a dick for, I don’t know, my dad, as usual.”

“No, don’t, Jug,” Betty assures him and takes his face in both her hands. “Your dad is difficult, I know that. I’m not upset with you, just the situation, and how nothing can ever be easy for us.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he sighs and goes to press their lips together, but is interrupted by his bedroom door bursting open. “Holy sh—Toni? What the fuck? Get out of here!” he shouts as Betty dives under the sheets even further.

“Sorry, but I just got a call, your dad’s on his way here, Jug,” Toni informs him.

“What?”

“I don’t know, that’s all Sweet Pea said—FP’s heading home. You asked me to look out, that’s what I’m doing,” Toni responds before closing the door just as fast as she opened it.

“Be—Betty, we have to get up, you have to go,” Jughead is stammering as he practically falls out of bed.

“Go? What? Juggie?” she asks as Jughead throws her romper at her.

“You have to trust me, okay? Toni’s older sister Tat, she’ll give you a ride home. You need to be gone before my dad gets home,” he tells her.

“Jughead, what?” Betty questions while buttoning her romper. “What is going on?”

“Just trust me, okay? Your shoes are by the door, c’mon,” he says and tugs on her hand until she’s stumbling after him.

Toni and another girl that looks like her, only her hair is red instead of pink, are waiting in the living room.

“Betts, this is Tat, she’ll drive you home. I’ll explain everything later, alright?”

Betty just looks at her flats in his hand but makes no move to grab them. “No, you’ll tell me right now, or I’m going to stay here and say hi to your dad.”

Toni barks out a laugh. “I like her, J,” she comments.

“Betty, we don’t have time for this,” Jughead insists.

“Maybe we wouldn’t need to take time if you’d tell me what is really going on,” Betty responds.

“Betty, please!” Jughead yells, startling her. “Fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you to go.”

She rips her shoes out of his hands and shakes her head at him. “You know, Jug, I’m getting really sick of this shit. I’m sick of feeling like we’re not equals in this relationship—that you’re holding all these cards I don’t know about. I’m sick of this fight with you and Archie that I can know nothing about. I’m sick of you not telling me things until I figure them out after the fact. I’m sick of having to hide who I am—what we are—because other people might not like it. So, you know what?” she says while grabbing her gym bag and throwing it over her shoulder. “Do me a favor, Jug, and don’t talk to me until you feel like being honest with me, about everything.”

“Betty,” Jughead murmurs and reaches for her.

“No, and thanks for the offer of a ride home, but I think I’ll walk,” she says in the girls’ direction before storming out the door, leaving Jughead behind wringing his hat in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry - more of Veronica (and Archie?) to come! 
> 
> Check out the aesthetic, Jandy always posts it here and its on tumblr as well! Get at me @anactualcaseofthetruth
> 
> Happy Holidays all!


	9. I Hope You Find Out What You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright fam - a heavy chap with some secrets revealed... and let it be known Jug's secret changed about 3 times, and, as always, Jandy was there to help me make sure everything was still cohesive and made sense. 
> 
> Leave me your thoughts, hit the kudos button, or attack me at my tumblr @anactualcaseofthetruth

 

     "Reincarnation:  
     [ree-in-kahr-ney-shuh n]    
     noun  
1. the belief that the soul, upon death of the body, comes back to Earth in another body or form.  
2. rebirth of the soul in a new body.

...Although not widely believed in, there are those who believe that the gift of a soulmark is also a telling that one's soul has walked on Earth before, and for as long as your souls are intertwined, you will walk the Earth again."

From  _Soulmarks and Spirituality,_ 2016

*

“Will you stop? I’m almost done.”

Betty does her best to quit squirming, but it feels _weird._ “I know I asked you to sleepover on a school night, something we both blackmailed our parents into, and I’m super grateful you agreed to wake up two hours earlier than necessary, but you know this is torture, right?”

“You’re right, I did use emotional dirt on my mother to get her to say yes to this, then agreed to get up at four AM and help you, so you should be grateful and stop flinching,” Veronica responds without missing a beat.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Look up!” Veronica reminds her in an exasperated tone.

Betty does as she’s told. “It feels weird having someone else do my make-up, and I usually don’t wear this much. It’s making my face feel heavy and—I don’t want to look like a clown, V.”

Veronica pulls away and looks at her in disappointment. “Would I ever do something like that to my girl? You don’t look like a clown; it only feels heavy because you’re so aware of it. I’m giving you a simple superficial makeover, not a full-on overhaul, okay?”

“I know, I know, and I feel so stupid for feeling so anxious. It’s just my face and some clothes, you know?” Betty mumbles.

“Sweetie, I am letting you borrow my favorite thigh-highs, it’s more than just clothes, okay? You look so good in them I’m honestly thinking of giving them to you because I simply don’t think I will ever be able to do them justice again,” Veronica insists. “I don’t know the exact details of your fight with our resident broody boy, but I know it involves making him drool, and believe me when I say: mission accomplished.”

“Thanks, V,” Betty murmurs with a small smile. “For everything. We’ve only known each other for a week and you already sacrificed by using emotional blackmail on your mom for me.”

“Of course, B, I told you, we’re destined to be a dynamic duo,” Veronica assures her. “Besides, do you know how much emotional blackmail I have on my mother? Although, I don’t like to use it that much, not with her and Daddy being so at-odds lately, more than normal.”

“You didn’t have to do it if that’s the case—”

“Betty, stop. I’m not the same girl here I was in New York, I had my own motives. My mother needs to see that as well. Trust me, if I didn’t want to do it I wouldn’t have,” Veronica responds. “But, you do know I could be more useful than just helping with a makeover. You can tell me what’s going on with you and Jughead.”

Betty opens her mouth and then closes it. She wants to tell Veronica about their mark, share more of herself with her friend, but that is something she should talk over with Jughead beforehand, and—the rational side of her head keeps reminding her that she’s only known Veronica for a week. Of course, the emotional side says that she feels a connection with this girl and not to question it.

“It’s complicated,” she settles on. “But I want to if that helps? It’s just… hard.”

“That’s fair, we all have our complications, don’t we?” Veronica agrees while sending a fleeting look to her white gloves folded neatly over her large purse.

“You can talk about that too if you want… when you’re ready,” Betty offers.

Veronica simply smiles at her. “Thanks, now, go get dressed, your face is perf.”

Once again, Betty follows orders and stands from the vanity to change in the bathroom. She looks at herself in the mirror for a minute and has to admit Veronica came through. She doesn’t look like a clown, but her face appears flawless. Her skin tone is even and cheekbones seemingly high, it seems like she is glowing, and her eyes are the perfect kind of smoky, but not so dark that she looks like a raccoon. It’s something she has yet to do well on herself since she’s so pale and blonde. It’s one of the reasons she sticks to pinks and bronzes, those she knows how to work on her face.

She’s leaving her hair down today, Veronica already styled it in beachy waves that look effortless, but, in reality, took about forty-five minutes to achieve.

The dress is from Polly’s closet—Betty figures it’s free reign now that her sister is gone. She and Veronica spent over an hour picking out the perfect dress to go with the brunette’s thigh-highs.

It’s white and looks almost sheer, but isn’t, and has a lace design to it. It shows her figure without making her feel uncomfortable, has a high neckline that covers her mark, and is school appropriate because it just reaches her fingertips as the rules for Riverdale High dictate how short clothing can be.

With a sigh she lets her robe fall to the floor, leaving her in a nude bra and panty set and reaches for the dress hung up on the wall.

The idea isn’t so much to make Jughead drool, that’s just a plus. She wants to do what she said—start to show who she is. She’s more than the pink and beige good girl, more than Polly’s little sister, more than Archie’s best friend. She’s not trying to say she’s more than Jughead’s girlfriend, but honestly, she is. She’s Jughead’s Soulmate. But as long as she can’t announce it, this will have to do.

A cold fist wraps around her heart at the thought of Jughead. It’s been a day and a half since he kicked her out of his trailer and she gave her ultimatum and she missed him like crazy.

Betty is sticking true to her word. She isn’t interested in speaking with him until he’s ready to be honest with her. It wasn’t just a fight with Archie that had him pushing her out the door, this is something else, and she needs to know if it affects him so.

He’s probably called and texted her close to a hundred times since, but not one of those texts contained a confession, not one voicemail said more than “sorry” or “please talk to me,” not even a plea to meet up and tell her the truth, so they’ve gone unanswered. He’s even come to her window, but it’s been locked, and she felt so guilty about ignoring him she’d taken to the couch downstairs. When he came to the door she’s asked her parents to say she isn’t feeling well or in the middle of something so she can’t come to the door. They figure it’s just a simple fight and want no part in it, so they did as she asked.

With them being so eager to be back on her good side they’ agreed to let Veronica sleepover on a Sunday night.

Betty worries what will happen today at school when she sees Jughead. She misses him so much and her heart aches, but she’s so mad she wants to sink her nails into her palms. It’s another reason she wanted Veronica to sleepover—a distraction. Because if she did hurt herself she would have to keep her promise to Jughead and call him. Perhaps it’s a good thing she’s so angry, she doesn’t want to call him so it’s stopping her from hurting herself.

It’s gotta be that Cooper aggression.

“Hey! Did you fall in? Get out here! I want to have a mini photo-op before we head out. I can’t wait to see Jughead’s face when he lays eyes on you, girl.”

Betty rolls her eyes, but can’t help but smile. After so many years with just Jughead and Archie, she is loving having a girl-friend. Veronica’s wonderful.

They get her boots on and have a cute photo shoot. It makes her feel lighter, all the laughter.

They are still laughing as they exit her house, the mood not to be ruined by her parents because they already left for work.

What stops her is Jughead sitting on the porch, leaning against a pillar, looking as though he may have even slept there waiting for her.

“Juggie,” Betty breathes.

“Betts,” he mimics and stands on wobbly legs.

“Did you… sleep here?” she asks after looking him over. His clothes are rumpled, the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than usual, and he’s looking at her like she’s a ghost.

“N—No,” he coughs with a shake of his head to clear the cobwebs. “I mean, I have been out here since five, but only because I didn’t want to miss you. I was worried you’d head to school early to try and avoid me.”

“Talk about dedication,” Veronica comments, impressed.

“You look, um, whoa,” he rasps. “Beautiful.”

Betty looks down at the six or so inches of thigh she’s showing and blushes. It’s not much, but it got her a reaction, the one she wanted from Jughead, at least.

“Thank you,” Veronica responds. “She’s my Sistine Chapel,” she sighs dramatically, making Betty chuckle.

It also makes her snap back into focus. “Jug, I meant what I said on Saturday—"

“I made up with Archie,” Jughead cuts her off.

“What?” she asks and steps forward.

“Yesterday. I went to his house and we had it out. I won’t tell you what made me angry at him, that’s his business, but I’ll tell you everything about me.”

“Yeah, but only because I’m making you,” she reminds him while brushing by on her way down the steps. “I backed you into a corner.”

Both he and Veronica begin to follow, the brunette’s pace much slower than her boyfriend’s. “Wasn’t that the point?” Jughead demands, stepping in front of her to block her path.

“I’m sick of you keeping things from me, Jug. Don’t you get how that makes me feel? I thought we were passed this. I shouldn’t have had to put you in a situation where you had to tell me or else. I shouldn’t have been in a position where you felt the need to kick me out of your house,” Betty goes on. “I get enough of the secrecy and lies from my parents. I didn’t think I was getting it from you too.”

“You’re not, dammit!” Jughead exclaims, his chest heaving. “It wasn’t about secrecy, it was about protection, and I’ll explain it all to you, I promise. You want to know now? Let’s skip school. You think you can wait until after? Great, I have a plan for that. I promise, I’m going to tell you everything, please. Believe me, Betty, please.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not over this. You say you’ll tell me after school—”

“I will,” he assures her.

“This still isn’t okay. You need to know you can tell me anything, Jug, and I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you or hold anything against you,” she reminds him.

“I know, I know, I—” Jughead takes his beanie off and begins wringing it through his hands. “I don’t want to get self-deprecating. I know I have issues and I know I need to work on them. I thought I was, and I’ll do better. I just need you to talk to me, I need us to be okay, or at least working on it. Please,” he repeats.

The cold fist lifts from where it had been squeezing around her heart, and she steps forward and takes Jughead’s cheeks in her hands. He instantly leans into them, he even stumbles closer.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his eyes blinking and wide open, showing more emotion than she’s seen in months.

“I know,” she murmurs and rests her forehead on his. He wraps his arms around her waist and moves to nuzzle her neck. “We’re still talking about this after school,” she breathes into his ear.

He chokes out a laugh into her neck. “I know, but you’re talking to me now, that’s what I need,” he admits.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

Jughead shakes his head and pulls away. “No, I’m sorry for thinking I should be protecting you when I’m fully aware you can take care of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Betty says and he tilts his head questioningly. “For fixing things with Archie. It means a lot, Juggie.”

“You mean _everything_ ,” he responds easily.

“Ah-hem, incoming,” Veronica speaks up from the couple feet away she’s been standing to give them their privacy. Betty hadn’t realized her friend had moved so far away but she’s appreciative.

They both look to see Archie jogging towards them to catch up. Betty and Jughead part and he unceremoniously puts his beanie back on.

“Hey, you hear the good news?” Archie asks, barely out of breath, and throws an arm around Jughead’s shoulders. “We’re the three musketeers again!”

“Ah-hem,” Veronica repeats and looks at Archie expectantly.

“Uh, we’re the fab four?” he tries, ginning.

“Not the best, but better,” she sighs. “I’ll think of a better name, don’t worry, Archiekins.”

“And, it’s the fab five, Archiekins,” Jughead informs him as they continue walking.

“Oh, I missed you, Juggie,” Archie coos and hugs him as they walk.

“Now, I see where Kevin gets all his naughty daydreams,” Veronica  says with a fond eye roll.

“Hey, don’t turn what we have into something for Kevin’s inappropriate thoughts,” Jughead insists.

“Oh, please, you two could just look at each other for two seconds and Kevin’s already got a heated storyline worked out,” Veronica assures him.

Betty squeezes Jughead’s hand as he pulls her closer.

This is what she wanted on the first day of school. It may be a week late, but she’ll take it.

*

There are many, many, _many_ things Betty Cooper is good at, not to toot her own horn.

She’s excellent at reading a situation and responding accordingly (thank you Alice Cooper), she’s a problem solver, her manners are superb, she’s always been highly organized, intelligent, loves fiercely, protects those she loves at all costs, and fights for what is right.

One thing Betty Cooper is not is patient.

It’s torture watching the minutes tick by in each class, waiting for it all to be over so she can (finally) be clued into whatever the hell is going on with her soulmate.

Her outfit serves as an adequate distraction for the first hour or so of school. 

Everyone seems so surprised to see Betty Cooper in a short dress and thigh-high boots. It makes her feel good, free even, but she still feels like a fake. She’s still covering the most important part of her body that she wants to be seen—her golden crown.

And if Reggie Mantle would stop staring at her and licking his lips, it would be much appreciated.

Veronica tells her at lunch that he made some comment in one of the classes the two share together. Something along the lines of “where has Mini-Cooper been hiding those bitchin’ legs!?” was said to which Veronica responded “funny, Jughead didn’t seem to have to ask that question,” and apparently shut the jock up.

Jughead can’t hide his grin behind his burger—no matter how big the sandwich was his grin is bigger.

It’s a little surreal, she admits. Betty’s not used to be being noticed by boys other than Jughead, no matter how much her boyfriend disputes and says boys have always noticed her. They’ve always admired the size of her chest, this she knows, but because of their mark and how she’s had to hide it, they’ve never had anything to stare at before.

That five inches of thigh is garnering attention, but she wishes they could see five inches below her neckline instead.

The odd day is tied together with a red bow when, as she’s waiting for Jughead, Cheryl Blossom approaches her with an expression Betty can’t place on her face.

“Not bad, Cooper, not bad,” is all the redhead says before sauntering away, her two best friends trying to match their leader’s long strides and confident steps as always.

She doesn’t mention the encounter to Jughead, who appears around the corner ten seconds later, ready to go—go where she isn’t sure. Last time she was in his home she was kicked out, and she’s not looking for a repeat.

To avoid a fight, she stays tight-lipped, thinking of Cheryl Blossom, wondering why she bothered to stop and say anything to her, and why she didn’t use the opportunity to ask about Polly.

Would one half of the infamous red-headed duo tell her sister she borrowed her dress? Would Polly even care? She used to hate when Betty borrowed her clothes without asking.

It surprises Betty that she doesn’t care. If that’s what Polly chooses to be angry about, then honestly… all Betty can think is ‘fuck her!’ It feels like she’s spent the last year doing all the work in their relationship only to be left in the cold time and time again. Maybe this time it’s Polly’s turn.

“Betty?” she’s torn from her thoughts by Jughead tugging on her hand, and it makes her fumble because she’s so caught off guard. “Shit, Betts, you alright?” he asks as he catches her shoulders.

“What?” she responds and blinks, taking in her surroundings. They are at the drive-in, the projector booth, to be exact. “What are we doing here?”

“Was it nice?” he asks while unlocking the door.

“What?” she repeats.

“The daydream?” he clarifies.

“Oh, no, it was—never mind,” she sighs. “What are we doing here?”

Jughead responds by opening the door for her and gestures for her to lead the way in. He’s right behind her, slapping a light switch with practiced precision and tosses the keys on the projector desk.

Betty has been in the film booth before back when Jughead first got the job at the beginning of summer but before she left for Boston. The booth looked very different than it did then.

Back then it was barren, bleak, just a few chairs and shelves full of film reels, a couple posters up on the walls, and a small supply closet that contained nothing special—a long forgotten lost and found box, an old rolled up cot, and film reels that had burned or scratched in some way, but hadn’t been thrown out.

Now, it’s full of life. Amongst the posters are pictures of her and their friends pinned, the cot is open and has fresh blankets on it, the bed made, and a pile of his clothes neatly folded in the corner. There’s also a portable stove and a stash of snacks readily available.

“Jug,” Betty whispers and turns wide-eyed. “What… is this?”

Jughead takes his hat off and tosses it next to the discarded keys before collapsing on the cot. “This is where I stayed for longer than I want to admit this summer,” he answers.

“What?”

“I was crashing at Archie’s before, like usual, but after our fight, this became my humble abode,” he tells her while leaning back against the wall.

“Why weren’t you at the trailer, Jug? I know you spend most of the summer at Archie’s, well my place, but with me gone I just figured—”

“I’d be at Archie’s? I was until we got into our spat, and then I needed somewhere to go, and the cot was already here,” Jughead says with a shrug.

“Why, Jug?” Betty presses.

“C’mere,” Jughead offers and holds out a hand. Betty takes it and sits next to him, her legs crossed like a lady because of the dress. “You don’t have to do that with me, you know,” he murmurs, to which she raises an eyebrow. “I’m not Reggie, I’ve seen it all, and this is a big conversation, it might take a while.”

Betty puffs out a laugh before removing the boots and scooting back to get more comfortable. “This cot isn’t bad,” she mentions and does a little bounce before crossing her legs in a way that is not very lady like to do in a dress.

Jughead smiles and takes one of her hands in both of this, his brow furrowed as he plays with her fingers for a long moment. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of how to start. I’ve rehashed this out in my head a million times today,” he admits.

“Start with the beginning,” Betty urges softly.

“The day after you left I went with Jellybean, my mom, and Billy to Toledo to help them settle in and see my grandparents,” he says a minute later. “I took the bus home and my dad met me at the station when I got off.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Betty can’t help but murmur. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was kind of a blip after the night went on,” he goes on. “We walked to Pop’s, he carried my bag, which was his old Army bag, and it was…” he stops and lets out a long breath. “Probably one of the best memories I have of him since I was a kid.”

Betty smiles, but keeps quiet, and just leans in to kiss his cheek.

“We ate, like, half the menu and talked for hours. He asked about Toledo, and my grandparents, and how Jellybean liked it. We even Facetimed her right there, and fuck, Betty, she looked so happy to see us together and my dad sober. It felt like a new beginning instead of just the next explosion.” Jughead smiles to himself like he still can’t believe it happened. “He told me how he had a job, and he hadn’t missed a single day, he said he didn’t plan on missing any, and when we went home the trailer was clean, Betts, like, your style clean.”

“Your dad probably even shaved just for you too, huh?” Betty asks and Jughead looks at her with a smile and nod. “So what happened, Juggie?”

“We were just hanging out, talking, I was putting my clothes away and—it just felt so good, you know? He was paying attention to me, in a way he hadn’t done in so long, in a way I didn’t realize I’ve fucking craved since I was a little kid. I buried it deep down inside me.”

“I know, baby,” Betty whispers and cups his cheek.

“But then I found a jacket in the closet, _his_ jacket.” Jughead stops to sigh. “A Southside Serpent jacket.”

Betty straightens but says nothing.

“I asked him what the hell he was doing. I mean, it’s not like they are the _Sons of Anarchy_ but the Serpents are still serious business. He was finally sober, had a decent job, and he was going to get caught up in this shit? I was pretty pissed.”

“What’d be say?”

“He told me he wasn’t a Southside Serpent,” Jughead tells her, and she opens her mouth, but he goes on. “I told him that would be a lot more believable if I wasn’t holding the fucking jacket in my hands, but he’s a helluva good actor. He said,” Jughead stops to smile sardonically, “he said he’s not _a_ Serpent, he’s _the_ Serpent, he’s in charge, the fucking president of the club.”

“Holy shit,” Betty can’t help but say. “Since when?”

“Apparently, he was involved when I was a kid, around when I went to Juvie, and my mom told him to quit, that even though it was bringing in a little bit of money, it was a bad influence on me. But I didn’t even fucking know back then, so how he was a bad influence on me I’ll never fucking know. He got involved again around when my mom left and took Jellybean but kept it quiet. He said he wasn’t going to hide it from me anymore because I deserved to know, that he’s going to be straight with me about shit from now on.”

“And?” Betty prompts.

“And that’s it. I mean, we talked about it, I asked him why. He told me he never had to fight to belong with them and that he felt he was battling my mom for a long time before they even broke up. He said he made a lot of bad choices with drinking and how he acted and the things he did after Billy entered the picture. He actually, uh, he actually thanked me for standing by him, he said it meant a lot and that I’m already a better man than he’ll ever be.”

“Wow,” she breathes.

“And honestly, Betts, it’s keeping him busy. He has a job. He brings in extra money by helping out the guys with construction stuff once in a while. He does whatever it is they do as Serpents, and he only drinks on the weekends when he doesn’t work,” Jughead admits. “And, even then, it’s not a lot. I guess being the face of the Serpents means he has to look good in public,” he says with a little bit of a laugh.

“Jug, if being in the Serpents is giving him the stability to be a father to you and keep a job -  as long as he’s not in trouble, and not getting you into any- then fine, he’s a Serpent. Is that it, is that what you were worried about telling me?” she asks.

He does that sardonic smile again and even leans forward to kiss her lightly. “If only it were, baby.”

“I’m going to get angry, aren’t I?” Betty sighs. “Something is going to make me mad, I can feel it.”

“Probably, yeah,” he can’t help but agree. “I was still spending most my time with Arch. I worked for Fred whenever he called because someone was sick and he needed an extra guy. I worked here and played video games, I talked to you all day, every day, and wrote. All of that you know.”

“Okay, get to what I don’t know,” Betty urges.

“Patience,” he responds, and Betty gives him a look. “I know, I know, you hate that you’re impatient, wrong thing to say, sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “Archie started acting weird, it led to what you don’t know and I’m still not telling you about—”

“Because it’s his business, I know,” she finishes in a huff.

“Right. I hung around the trailer park more, worked on the bike a bit, went to that new pawn shop a little, but one night on my way home from the drive-in I… well there’s no easy way to tell you this, Betts, but I got jumped.”

“What?” she just about screeched and ripped her hand from his. “You got jumped, and you didn’t tell me? You talked to me every day and you just left that part out? What the fuck, Jughead?”

“Yeah, I expected that reaction,” he admits, wryly.

“Was it the Serpents? Why would they do that?”

“It wasn’t the Serpents, Betts. They know who I am and who my dad is, they would never,” Jughead assures her. “It was the Ghoulies.”

“Those drug addicts!? They jumped you? Was it random? What did your dad say? Hell, your dad’s a Serpent now, what did he do?” she asks in rapid succession, then softens. “God, Jug, what did they do to you?” she murmurs while taking his face into her hands.

He leans into her hold. “It wasn’t my finest look, but Toni took pictures because she’s into photography too and they turned out pretty gnarly. I don’t recommend them for you though, it wouldn’t end well for me.”

“Jug, what happened?”

“I limped home, called my dad, and—it wasn’t random. I was the intended target. They were sending a message.”

“What message? You’re a fifteen-year-old kid, for God’s sake, who does this shit?” Betty demands.

“Gangs in a turf war,” Jughead answers easily. “They were letting my dad know they are encroaching on their territory, and that,” he stops to clear his throat. “It was the Ghoulies mocking my dad, saying if you can’t keep your own son safe, how are you doing to keep everyone else safe? My dad was fucking livid, Betty, I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Good! I’m livid! They beat you up, Jug, and because of a turf war? What does that even mean? Why does it matter—”

“The Ghoulies are a gang, Betts,” Jughead interrupts. “At their core, they are dicks who think they are better than everyone else. The Serpents aren’t like them, they try to keep the community safe, to keep their kids in school, to be better than them, and they may dabble in some illegal business, I’m not privy to any of that, but they aren’t like the Ghoulies. Those guys are scum, Betts, and they used me to hit my dad where it hurts, and it—fuck, it still makes me so angry.”

“It was right before the Fourth, wasn’t it?” Betty asks quietly but already knows the answer. “Around when Archie got ‘sick’ and your phone’s camera was fucking up so you couldn’t Facetime.”

“Those weren’t all lies,” is the first thing out of Jughead’s mouth. “My phone did get fucked when they jumped me, I had to go to Apple and sit there for hours as they practically did surgery on it, but—yes,” he admits. “Archie being sick was a lie. I still wanted to see you, so bad, bad enough that I was going to go anyways, but—Archie and I got into that fight and he wouldn’t go and I couldn’t go alone so—I just got so angry at everything I did something stupid, Betty.”

Betty stays quiet, readying herself for whatever he’s about to tell her.

“I went behind my dad’s back and joined the Serpents.”

“You—what?!” Betty exclaims, and she knows her voice is harsh, but she doesn’t care.

“I started to, I mean,” Jughead corrects and stands before her. “It’s a process, and once it’s started there’s no stopping it, and Archie found out and we got into _another_ fight and fuck!” Jughead stops as he begins to pace. “My dad was pissed, he told Archie, hoping he’d knock sense into me and he did. He told me if I did all this without letting you know I was being just like my dad by trying to fix something but only making it worse. And—and that you’re the biggest part of me and if I did this without telling you that, soulmate or not, it’s something that could fuck us up so I stopped it.”

“Stopped it!? You just said once you start there is no stopping it!” Betty reminds him and tries to stand, but Jughead kneels in front of her.

“I’m not saying any of this right, just wait, please, let me get this right,” he pleads, his hands gripping her hips. “There’s an initiation process. It’s three parts and I only did the first two. I’m not a Serpent, I did stop it. I was just so fucking angry, Betty, you have to understand. I was used against my dad and it pissed me off because he was finally doing so well, and those fucks tried to take that away from him. I had to do something to show my dad I was safe, that I am safe, and that,” Jughead stops and stands before her. “I’m my father’s son, Betty. That means something around here with who he is now. They call me the Serpent Prince, and they used the fact that I’m not in against my dad.”

“And they used the fact that he is in, and the leader, against you, Jug, you have to see that,” Betty insists.

“I do, I do,” he assures her. “But, the good outweighs the bad, Betts. My dad is actually being a father to me. He calls Jellybean every day. He asks how my day was. The Serpents accept him for who he is, and that’s something my mom never did, and that’s really what tore them apart. She didn’t believe in him and he always tried to prove her wrong by doing something over the top to come out like a hero. I don’t want to be like that, Betts, and I realized I was falling into that habit too. I mess up and try so hard to fix it when all I really should have done is just tell you what was going on with me.”

“So what do you want from me, Jug?” Betty asks him, her expression passive and not giving anything away. “Approval? It seems like your mind is already made up. The Serpents brought your dad belonging and stability, he’s being what you always wanted him to be, and that’s amazing, Jug, it is. But he’s a grown man, what I think about him being a Serpent doesn’t matter—”

“It does to me!” Jug interrupts.

“Because you want to be one too, that’s the truth isn’t it?”

He’s quiet because they both know his answer.

“Why did you kick me out of the trailer, Jug? So I wouldn’t see your dad in the Serpent jacket?”

“Part of it,” he tells her and leans back on the projector desk. “I wanted you to hear from me first. I was working my way up to it. But also because,” he stops and sighs, “he doesn’t want me to join either and I know he’d use you against me like he did Archie.”

“Shouldn’t that mean something? That _he_ doesn’t want you to join? You said the Serpents want better for their kids, more than they have, isn’t that we’re working towards?” Betty asks as she steps up to him. “It’s a far-off dream, but we always said New York. We’d get an apartment together, you’ll go to NYU for writing or film or both, and I’d go Columbia and we’d commute from New Jersey because the rent is cheaper. If you did this, would we still be able to do that?” she questions in a whisper. “I don’t want you to make a rash decision now because you’re angry and mess up everything we’ve wanted for so long.”

Jughead immediately takes her face in his hands. “I would never jeopardize that life with you, Betty, never,” he swears. “Of course, we’d still be able to do all of that. I can’t wait for that shitty New York apartment or slightly larger shitty apartment in New Jersey. I can’t wait until all the small-town drama shit doesn’t matter and we can just be together the way we want to be.”

“You already got hurt because of this once, Jug. I don’t want you involved in something that can keep getting you hurt. This Ghoulie thing, it sounds serious.”

“It is serious, but as far as I know—my dad handled it.  I’m not in yet, so I don’t get to know details. Sunnyside was about to get taken over because a couple Ghoulies moved in, but they’re gone now so everything is good. I stayed here while my dad handled it. The drive-in is Serpent territory,” he tells her.

“You still haven’t told me what you want from me,” Betty whispers and his hands drop.

“Maybe you’re right, I want your approval, because you’re the most important part of my life, and none of this is worth anything if you’re not with me,” he admits.

“You’re my forever, Jug, and I could never leave you. I know wouldn’t survive it,” Betty tells him, not caring to hide the crackle in her voice. “But no matter how intertwined we are, this decision is yours. I’m not going to be the kind of partner who dictates what you do, that isn’t the kind of soulmate I want to be—”

“You’re not—” Jughead interrupts.

“Please, let me finish,” Betty pleads. “You just need to realize that whatever you decide, you’re deciding for me too. You say the Serpents are the good guys and while I do believe they are better than the Ghoulies, you’re deluding yourself if you think they aren’t doing illegal things right alongside them.”

“Betty, it’s not—”

“No!” Betty exclaims. “The Serpents are a gang, I’m not saying they don’t have better intentions or ideals than the Ghoulies, but it’s still a gang,” she insists. “If you do this, if you join this life, I won’t stop you, but you have to realize all that we’re giving up in place of it. You’re changing the dream we have of New York and leaving Riverdale for something more, something _better_ ,” she goes on. “Your own father who is the leader does not want you involved, shouldn’t that tell you something?”

“This is your answer then?” Jughead asks, his tone low and full of gravel.

“This is me telling you how I feel about this very big decision you almost made without me,” she corrects. “You can tell me how wonderful you think the Serpents are, how great they’ve been to your dad and how much they’ve helped him, and I’ll believe you. But don’t you sit there and act like the Serpents are having pillow-fights while the Ghoulies are selling drugs and running chop shops.”

Jughead plops down on the cot with his head in his hands. He doesn’t say anything as he rubs his palms against his eyes.

“These marks, Jughead,” she begins again, and he peaks up beneath his knuckles. “These mean everything to me,” she says softly while kneeling on the cot next to him and tugging down on his shirt to show their crown. “That means _you_ mean everything to me and that I will be with you always. If you decide that being a Serpent is something you need to do, if it’s something that will make you truly happy, I’m not going to stop you. But you don’t get to sit there and lie to me, don’t you tell me that it won’t change the future we want together, because I won’t have it.”

Jughead rests his hand over hers on his chest and nods slowly. “Okay.”

“I’m done with the lies, Jughead Jones, you hear me?”

He simply nods again, but Betty bores holes into his eyes. “I hear you, Betty. No more lies, ever.”

“Okay,” she mimics and falls onto her butt. Betty lets out a shaky breath and buries her face in his neck. “This is all, right Jug? No more secrets or surprises?”

Jughead pulls away just enough to look her in the eye. “Well, my dad still doesn’t know about our marks, but he does comment on how I’m like him by not needing mark, but—”

“Here we go,” Betty sighs and drops her head against the wall, feeling like she’s about to cry.

“He may have made a remark or two about how you’ll break my heart because you’re going to mark and I’m not,” Jughead admits.

“And you said?” she prompts.

“That we’re not them, you’re not mom, and that I’d appreciate if he didn’t talk about you like that.”

Betty accepts this and lets her eyelids start to slide closed.

“There’s something else you should know about the last part of initiation too,” he admits, and she groans. “I know, I’m sorry, but—no more secrets, not even out of some unnecessary need to protect you, right?”

“Just tell me,” she mumbles.

“It’s called the Gauntlet, and it’s—only the guys do it because it’s rough,” Jughead tells her.

“What is it?”

“It’s two rows of Serpents, about ten or twelve guys total, and I have to make it to the end conscious.”

“They’re jumping you too?!” Betty exclaims.

“I don’t think it’s considered a jump if—”

“Don’t get technical with me, Jughead Jones, now is not the time.”

Jughead just nods and bites his lips.

“Can’t they just consider what the Ghoulies did as your initiation if you decide to join?” she wonders aloud.

“Do you have any idea how many fights these guys get into with each other?”

Betty looks at him blankly. “Yes, I keep gang stats readily available, let me get out my handy-dandy notebook.”

At this, Jughead smiles. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

Betty softens, but only a little. “Don’t get cute with me either, Jughead Jones.”

“The point is, I have to run the Gauntlet if I want to join. You wanted to know everything, this is everything.”

“Have you made your decision?” Betty asks quietly.

“No,” he answers. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, it’s okay, but I also would like to know before you run the Gauntlet if that is the choice you make. No putting it off until it’s over to protect me from worrying or my anxiety. That’s a cop-out and you know it.”

Tentatively, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and without hesitation she leans into it. “Are we good? Or are we in some type of limbo until I decide?”

“No more limbos,” Betty murmurs while looking up at him. “We’re good, I just—I’m not going to sugarcoat how I feel about this when it’s something this big. I won’t, this is too important.”

“I know. I love you,” Jughead insists as he leans back and pulls her with him.

“You do, huh?” she breathes against his neck.

“And I know that you’re the best part of me, and above all else, above everyone else, you know me better and what is best for me, even if I may not see it,” he continues, his lips close to her ear and his voice low. “I just need time to think. I have until my birthday, so even though we’re not in limbo, I am, and I have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Good,” Betty states. “It’s a big decision, one you rushed into, and if you have the opportunity to stop and think, you should take it.”

“I am,” he assures her.

Betty hooks a leg over his hips and melts into his frame. “I have a headache now.”

“You know what they say is good for headaches?”

“Hm?”

Jughead slips a hand up her thigh and plays with the hem of her dress. “Orgasms.”

“Really?” Betty rolls onto her back and Jughead settles on an elbow above her. “Well, if you’re willing to do the work—”

“Believe me, I do not consider it work,” he tells her with a lascivious grin.

“I certainly don’t consider _you_ work. You’re easy,” she laughs.

“Yes, yes, I am,” Jughead agrees and starts working his way down her body. “But, damn, do I enjoy making sure you unravel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I had a different ending, one Jandy was NOT happy with, and we can't have that! Jk, she made some very valid points and helped me see the light so - voila, this is what you got! 
> 
> Leave me your thoughts, hit the kudos button, or attack me at my tumblr @anactualcaseofthetruth
> 
> And not to forget the thanks to Jandy for making the aesthetic which will be posted on tumblr with the chap and she also reviews it! Follow her or drop her some love @jandjsalmon


	10. I Already Know What I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fast, huh? You're welcome ;) 
> 
> Big stuff in the works here! You'll see... big things coming, be ready, y'all! 
> 
> And let's never forget to thank Jandy for beta-ing and answering weird questions at all hours of the day when I forget a word or need to describe something better.

“Most people mark with their soulmates before the age of 24. The median age is approximately 19 years old, with the outliers being 14 and 32, respectively.

There are exceptions, as in those meet but don’t touch appropriately in order to mark… it’s been found that most people know of their soulmate by the age of 16.”

From _Is Age Just a Number?_ , 2017

*

It's not until after five that Betty, Veronica, and Kevin trudge into the garage that Archie and Fred turned into a soundproof hang out so that Archie can write and belt out love ballads without disturbing the entire neighborhood. It also serves as a place for the boys to play video games and not annoy Fred.

“Finally, Jesus, what took you guys so long?” Archie asks, but his eyes never leave the TV.

“Don’t look at me, I was just the ride,” Kevin states with hands up before taking his usual seat in the ancient recliner.

 "HBIC Cheryl wasn't happy with the routine, so we spent two hours reworking the entire thing," Betty answers, unceremoniously dropping her gym bag on the floor.  She's changed into baggy sweats and an old cut-off shirt that she'd stolen from Jughead long ago and chopped up for her own comfort—it bares her shoulders and he can see parts of her black sports bra peeking out, but her soul mark is, of course, well-hidden.

“I’m regretting joining,” Veronica comments before plopping down onto the old fold-out with little to no grace and very un-Veronica Lodge-like.

“Can you pause or something?” Betty questions while nudging Jughead in the knee as he sits on the floor cross-legged with a pillow.

“I just died, what’s up?” he answers, but rather than respond verbally Betty just falls to her knees, one on either of his hips and situates herself in his lap with her legs crossed around his back.

She makes sure her head is on the shoulder opposite the TV so she’s not in his way. “You can get back to playing now,” she murmurs with a contented sigh.

Jughead chuckles beneath her and simply kisses her neck before she feels him connect his hands behind her back to continue to play.

“You guys are seriously giving me cavities,” Veronica groans from above them.

“You learn to ignore it. Hey, did you guys make it to the part where…”

Betty stops listening to the conversation and just burrows comfortably into Jughead’s shoulder, lets his scent fill her nostrils, and feels her body meld into his form.

She’s _exhausted_.

Ever since their big talk, she’s been having trouble sleeping—that much Jughead knows and he worries.

It’s been two weeks since he told her everything and she feels like she hasn’t gotten more than two hours a night, unless it’s been one of the few nights he sneaks into her room.

Those nights she can rest easy.

Betty sees the worried glances Jughead gives her as the bags under her eyes continue to darken day by day, but she just shrugs and leans into his shoulder. There’s nothing he can do—there’s still two weeks until his birthday and he hasn’t informed her of any decision that’s been made. She’s done her best to steer clear of the subject unless he brings it up.

She’s decided that she’s already said her piece and knows that continually sticking her nose into it would just put them into a constant state of tension, and with what’s going on in her life, Jughead’s her only relief. She doesn’t want to risk that. She’s too tired to be curious and have her one comfort taken away. So, as far as Betty knows, Jughead still has one foot in and one foot out.

(She feels like she’s holding onto the leg on the outside, sitting on it like she did with her father as a child when he’d swing her back and forth until her mother found them and scolded them for being unsafe. Only in this case, she’s holding on to keep Jughead safe. To keep their future safe.)

She’s so lost in thought that she may have actually fallen asleep—she doesn’t know, she’s not sure what it feels like anymore—but she jumps when Veronica practically yells her name directly into her ear.

“Fuck! What?” Betty starts and looks to Jughead for answers, confused.

“Language! She’s asking about the dance,” her soulmate fills her in with a grin.

“What dance?” she questions, ignoring his little jab.

“The Homecoming dance, duh,” Kevin answers, his hands now holding a controller and she notices Jughead doesn’t have one at the small of her back anymore.

“We need to start planning now, you know,” Veronica tells her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are _you_ planning on asking me?” Betty asks her, her eyes now slits. She was definitely asleep and is not happy to be awake now.

“No, but we’re all going as a group, right?” Veronica goes on. “You and Jughead, Archie and his lucky lady, whoever she may be, and I was thinking I could go with Kevin. That is unless you have any other prospects,” she finishes while looking at the boy in question.

“No! Hell yeah! Do you think you can get me a swatch of your dress so I can match my tie? Oh, can I wear a bowtie? I love bowties. Should I get a matching vest too, or is that too much?” he shoots off rapidly.

“How do you know I have a lucky lady?” Archie asks, cutting off Veronica’s answer. “I mean, girl,” he coughs.

“Archiekins, you’re not subtle, you always sneak away after lunch and sometimes you’re missing in the morning. Not to mention some of the excuses you make. Just how many times can you leave your pencil somewhere?” she replies, nonchalant. “Your _pencil_? Really?”

“Wait, you have a girlfriend?” Betty speaks up, her brain only mildly alert due to her interrupted catnap. “And you didn’t tell me? Who is she? Did you know about this?” she asks her own boyfriend.

Jughead looks at her with an expression she’s unsure of. “I—”

“It’s my business,” Archie helps him out. “And it’s not—I’m going to the dance stag, as in listening to Reggie go on about how much ass he is going to get only for him to go home alone, watch the Pussycats perform, and probably dance with Kevin a few times to make his night—”

“Hey! We do not joke about things like this, Archie Andrews. You say it, you better do it,” the boy states.

“I would never joke, Kev, you know you have a special place in my heart,” Archie insists.

Kevin smiles from ear to ear and melts into the couch, his cheeks red with heat. “Can the three of us go together? It would cause such a scandal! Oh, please, can we do it? Please?” he pleads with Veronica, his eyes big and his bottom lip out.

“If Archie’s doesn’t mind,” Veronica answers. “I’m all for creating scandals.”

They both look to Archie who shrugs. “I guess so?”

“Oh, yes! We’re so doing this and taking the best photo-op ever,” Kevin sighs happily.

“You guys have fun,” Jughead says with hands moving up and down Betty’s back systematically to help ease the knots.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re coming. Betty, tell him he’s coming,” Veronica orders.

“Jug does what he wants, and he doesn’t do dances. Shit, can you go a little to the left?” she practically moans into his collarbone. “Sorry, babe, my left.”

He does as he’s told until Veronica hits him with a pillow so hard his hat falls off and rolls down Betty’s backside. “Fu—Veronica, what are you doing?”

“You are taking her to the dance. And you’re going to wear a suit with the suspenders on correctly, and—”

“V, it’s really not a big deal,” Betty interrupts. “I’ve tried to get him to go to every dance since grade school, he refuses. It doesn’t matter if I pout or use the silent treatment, he won’t go. He doesn’t feel comfortable so I’ve given up. I’ve gone without him a couple times and it’s not fun for me watching everyone couple up, no matter how much fun Kevin is,” she says honestly, “I’m not making that the hill I die on,” she says simply. “Can you get back to the massage please?”

“We went to a dance before,” Jughead counters instead.

“No, we haven’t. I’ve missed almost every single dance of my school career, and the two I did go to were with Kevin.”

“Fifth grade, the Valentine’s Day dance—”

“Oh, Jughead Jones, that does not count.” Betty laughs. “That was an in-class party not a dance. And it was for being the class to sell the most chocolate—”

“I remember that!” Archie recalls. “Remember your parents were so pissed because you ate all your chocolate rather than sell it so they had to fork over, like, a hundred and twenty bucks,” Archie recalls in a laugh. “Jug’s the reason we got the party,” he tells Veronica.

“We danced! It counts,” Jughead insists indignantly.

“Because I was the only girl left sitting by myself, not because you wanted to. Archie would have taken your place, but he was obsessed with Stephanie Gibson that week—”

“Don’t single me out, dude. Everyone was obsessed with Stephanie Gibson, she was the first girl in our grade to develop a chest and it was—let’s just say they were the size they are now, but on an eleven-year-old’s body,” Archie says to a wide-eyed Veronica.

She looks to Betty, who nods in confirmation. “That poor girl, she has, like, what, a D cup? And at eleven, wow,” Veronica mumbles to herself.

“Yeah, it was _awesome_ ,” Archie assures her.

“You realize I’m a girl, right? That’s not—I don’t see that as awesome,” Veronica tells him.

“He was just happy because his hand brushed up against it, so stop acting like you got somewhere. We were eleven,” Betty reminds him with an eye roll.

“I’m sorry, not all of us found our soulmate at four years old and—”

“What!?” Archie’s interrupted by Veronica’s shriek.

Betty’s mouth opens in shock, Archie looks like a deer stuck in headlights, Jughead just lets his head fall back onto the couch, and Kevin almost looks giddy.

“Holy shit, this is getting so good,” he coos and both Betty and Jughead give him a look.

“You two got soulmarks at four years old—?” Veronica asks but is so shocked she can’t continue. “What, that’s imposs—” she continues to be practically speechless.

“We didn’t mark at four years old,” Jughead speaks up finally.

Betty looks at him with pleading eyes and he simply nods a little. “But I did know when I was four,” she finishes.

“But you are soulmates? You marked later? When? Where? Is this why you go into the bathroom stalls to change for practice?”

Rather than answer Betty just tugs on her crop top to reveal the gold crown. It’s somewhat blocked by the sports bra, but her new friend gets the idea.

“Holy crap,” the brunette breathes. “I didn’t think you two were marked. I thought you just, like, rose above it. Wow,” she goes on. “How did you know at four?”

Betty shrugs and leans back on Jughead’s legs that are now in a bent-up position. “I don’t know, we had just met and he hugged me to make me feel better, and,” she looks at Jughead who now has a small smile playing on his lips. “I could feel it somehow. So, I told him he was mine and he never fought it so,” she stops with a shrug.

“Why would I? Look at you,” Jughead teases and tickles her sides.

“Shut up, I was four and crying and—”

“Adorable,” he whispers before kissing her sweetly.

“Enough with that, I’m still in need of information over here! When did you find out?” Veronica presses.

“They went through a rough patch when we were, like, thirteen. It was all very angsty and he wore even more black than he does now,” Kevin begins. “Anyways, they were in this very big, very strange stance of ‘we’re not together but we’re not single either’ and there was hella tension, let me tell you,” he continues. “Anywho, Betty got her period, she was super scared of, you know, not being right, so she avoided him. Finally, he snuck into her bedroom, of course, and she told him. They kissed and voila, crown soulmarks right over their itty-bitty hearts.”

“That we keep secret because of the small-town drama, and because we were so young,” Betty adds on.

“Or, we were keeping it a secret before Archie opened his mouth,” Jughead says.

“I’m so fucking sorry, guys,” their red-headed friend finally speaks up. “I’ve never told anyone else, ever, and I—”

“We know, Jug’s just giving you a hard time,” Betty insists and pinches her boyfriend.

“It was only a matter of time before Veronica found out,” Jughead agrees, then bites his lip. “Besides, I’m working on telling my parents so we can spill the beans, anyway.”

At that Betty smiles and plants a big kiss on his lips.

“And what a better way to do it than at Homecoming in two weeks?”

“Uhm, no,” Betty answers herself. “I’m not putting a time limit on it. Jug’s parent’s history with marks is rough and I’m not putting him in a position where he feels forced to tell people. He’s working on it and that’s all I need right now,” she assures her new friend. “Besides, we have other plans that weekend.”

“We do?” Jughead asks.

“I was trying to be subtle, but yeah, it’s your birthday,” she reminds him.

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry, Veronica, we can’t go, got plans,” he agrees quickly.

“You? Plans? On your birthday? All you do is get Pop’s and go to the Bijou with Betty. You can do that on any given Wednesday,” Kevin speaks up. “Jug hates his birthday, by the way.”

“I admit defeat for the night but not forever on the subject. You’ve been warned, Joneses,” she threatens.

“Joneses?” Betty questions, tilting to her head.

“What? It’s inevitable, but I know to be quiet in mixed company, unlike some people,” Veronica says dramatically to the room.

“I said I was sorry!” Archie pouts.

“And I’m going to find out who your lady friend is,” Veronica warns with a smirk.

“And I’m going to help,” Betty offers and the two wink at each other.

“Jug, a little help here?” Archie asks, his face pale.

“Sorry, bud, I know better than to try and keep things from Betty by now. You’re on your own,” her boyfriend says while looking at her with a small grin.

“You better,” she murmurs before kissing him once more.

“Okay, can we get food or something? All these slips have been great, but I’m hungry, and when I’m too hungry I get hangry and—”

“Stop, yes Kevin, we can get food,” Jughead interrupts. “Pop’s?”

“Yeah, I could use some chili cheese fries after that horror show we call practice,” Veronica agrees while standing.

Betty sighs. “I probably have to go home. My parents—”

“You’re coming,” Jughead urges as he struggles to get up with her still on top of him.

“Jug, I’m gonna fall!” she whines.

“You? I haven’t felt my ass in over an hour,” he groans while letting her go to get on her own feet. “You’re coming, you’re never home for dinner on nights you have practice and they know that.”

Betty looks at him under tired eyes but says nothing.

“C’mon, going to bed with a full stomach won’t hurt any. I’ll make sure you’re home before Alice Cooper sends out the dogs,” he assures her.

“Fine, but I’m getting a side salad,” she capitulates.

“As long as it’s on the side of a big, juicy cheeseburger, sure,” Jughead agrees.

“When you put it that way,” Betty says with a grin as he throws an arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

*

It’s unfair, Betty thinks, on Friday night after a grueling River Vixen’s practice followed by the football game, that she felt like death warmed over all day, but as soon as her head hits the pillow it’s as though she doesn’t remember how to sleep.

Wearing one of the shirts she’s stolen from Jughead, she curls into her pillow, her thumb hovering over his name nestled between emoji hearts in her contact list.

He and Archie are having a sleepover tonight, meaning they are next door playing video games and eating all night, doing whatever boys do when they have sleepovers, and she doesn’t want to interrupt, but—

She’s so tired, so tired with no sleep in sight that the words on her phone become blurred as tears fill her eyes.

Betty sniffles and hits Jughead’s name.

He answers after a ring or two, mid-laugh, and it makes her heart lurch. This is their first real ‘guy-time’ together or whatever, and she hates that she’s ruining it.

“Hey, babe,” he greets. “Calling to say goodnight?”

She sniffles again and bites her lip. “I know you’re with Arch, but do you think you could come over? Just until I fall asleep? Please?”

“Of course, are you okay, Betts?” he asks, knowing her entirely too well.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she assures him and doesn’t think it’s a lie. She is fine, just tired, tired and out of it. “I—I don’t sleep unless you’re with me, not real sleep, not lately, and I—”

“Betty, I’m already walking out the door. I’ll be up in two minutes, okay?”

“It’s Archie mad? I know tonight’s a big deal—”

“It’s video games and shit-talking, and no, he’s not mad. He wanted to get a writing session anyways, whatever that means to our resident Justin Bieber, no worries. I’m about to climb up, so,” he pauses.

“Okay, see you in a sec,” she murmurs before hanging up and dropping the phone on pastel bedspread.

Maybe it’s this room, she thinks as she surveys the pinks, purples and baby blues all mixing together. As time goes on, she’s feeling less and less like the room belongs to her. It’s the bedroom for the perfect daughter her parents want. It doesn’t feel like her, not anymore, not ever again.

“Arch is right,” Jughead states as he crawls through her window. “If I work out my arms more, that is a lot easier.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers in response.

Jughead cups her cheeks as it sits on the bed in front of her. “No, I’m sorry, Betts. This is all because of me. I hate it,” he admits.

“It’s not just you, Jug,” she assures him, leaning into his hold. “It’s a lot you, not going to lie, but… everything is getting to me. It’s like I can’t keep up the charade anymore.”

“What charade?”

“All this perfection,” she mouths, not wanting to say it. “I hate that word, I hate it, and I—for so many years I’ve abided by it. I wore the pastels and sweaters with stupid lace trimming and long-sleeves that my mom picked out. I took ballet and piano lessons. I’ve been shadowing at the Register since I was, like, nine? Who does that?” she asks the room more than him. “I was nine. I should have been playing Star Wars with you and Archie or watching Disney movies nonstop with Kevin—”

“Hey, as I recall, I was subjected to those Disney marathons too, Betts,” Jughead cuts in with a small smile. “I know every word to _The Little Mermaid_ and _Cinderella_ , and even _Tangled_ ,” he reminds her.

“ _Beauty and the Beast_ too,” she adds with a smile. “I went to church and did every academic extra-curricular. I voluntarily did every extra credit assignment even though I had straight-A’s. I did that stupid internship. I didn’t talk back and I was nothing like Polly. I didn’t shorten my skirts or hang out with people she didn’t approve of. I’ve only missed curfew, like, twice in my entire life,” she stops to look at him, doing her best to blink away the tears. “But what’s the point? It doesn’t matter how much I try to be everything they want when all it takes is one stupid mistake for them to throw me away.”

“Betty, what are you talking about? Your parents aren’t perfect themselves, no matter how much they want to be, but they love you,” he tells her.

“Like they love Polly?” she asks with a quiver in her lip. “She may have been rebellious and loud and full of life, but she’s still their daughter. All it took was one choice—Jason—and it was so easy to toss her aside.”

“Betty, I—”

“Did I help?” she asks him. “Because I did everything they said. I became everything they wanted. Did that make it okay to let her go because they had me?”

“No. No, Betty, stop,” he urges and tugs her by the back of the knees so she’s in his lap. “It’s never okay to do what they did. Polly’s their daughter as much as you are. It doesn’t matter if she didn’t listen as much as you did.”

“What if that’s why she doesn’t want to see me? What if she thinks because they have me they don’t need her?”

“Oh, baby,” Jughead says into her neck as they hold each other. “I don’t know what Polly thinks, but it can’t be that it just can’t be. None of this is your fault. She made her choices and they made theirs. You weren’t even here when it all went down.”

“Because I was at that stupid internship my mom got me into. If I was here—”

“You’d be in the same boat you are now,” he tells her. “Because neither of them would have budged, and you know it.”

Betty nods into his neck, her fingers playing with the little hairs at his nape. “I’m mad at her,” she admits.

“I know,” he answers quietly.

“She just left me behind like I would agree with them. Like I hadn’t been on her side for the last year with everything. I keep trying to prove to her I’m a good enough sister, the perfect sister, and she just keeps—” the rest is caught in her throat and she squeezes his shoulders tight. “I’ve done everything to contact her. She’s made herself unreachable, and I—I think I’m done, Jug. I can’t—if everything I’ve done, everything I am isn’t enough for her then that’s it. I can’t be any more than I am.”

“Baby, you’re enough, you’re more than, fuck,” he insists, his grip so tight she almost can’t breathe, but Betty wants it that way. He makes her feel safe, wanted, _enough_.

“I’m not used to giving up,” she confesses after a long moment.

“You’re not giving up, Betty. You’ve done everything you can do to show Polly you’re on her side and that you don’t agree with your parents. If it’s not enough for her, then she’s truly becoming a Blossom and that’s her fault, not yours,” he says firmly into her skin.

Betty pulls away to wipe her face on her pajama shirt.

“You’re everything, Betty. I don’t ever want you to think you’re less than how completely wonderful you are,” Jughead states.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall apart on you,” she whispers, resting her forehead on his. “That’s not why I asked you to come over. I just—it’s not all you, so don’t be a drama queen and think it is,” she teases.

He smiles and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

 “I can’t wait until we’re older, when I’m out of this room, this house. When I don’t have to call you to come over because you’ll be beside me. I want to be able to roll over and have you already there.”

“That’s the real dream right there, huh?” he murmurs and kisses her once more. “C’mon, let’s get under the covers.”

Betty settles under her sheet and comforter set but finds more comfort in Jughead’s arms. “Jug, if you become a Serpent, what kind of obligations will you have?”

“Betty, I—”

“I mean, like, you made me watch _Sons of Anarchy_. Do the Serpents have _Church_? Will you have to be there? Are there different meetings for the younger Serpents? Will I have a name?” she begins to ramble on.

“A name?” he questions.

“Yeah, on _Sons_ they were called Crow-Eaters, right?”

“The groupies were, Jesus, Betty,” he says in half a laugh. “You wouldn’t be a groupie, you’d be a… Old Lady, I think? And, I don’t know about any of it. I’m not in, remember?”

Betty settles back onto her pillow. “Well, I’m just saying, they should hand out pamphlets or something, so we know what we’re getting into.”

“It’s a gang, Betty, I think that speaks for itself,” he tells her.

“Humph,” she grunts and stares at the ceiling.

“If conversational whiplash is a thing, it’s what I’m experiencing right now,” Jughead admits.

“Welcome to my nightlife,” she sighs and blinks up at the too-white paint. “My mind jumps to a million different things when I’m trying to sleep. I think about you, Veronica, Kevin, my parents, Polly, Archie, his girlfriend, who is she?” she goes on without missing a beat. “I keep wondering who. At first, I thought it was Ethel and he wasn’t saying anything because she’s not, like, his usual, you know?’ she asks and then continues before he can answer. “And it pissed me off because Ethel is awesome, and she deserves better than to be a secret because she’s not someone Reggie Mantle would ‘approve’ of or whatever.”

“Wow,” is all her boyfriend says.

“But then, during one of the times Archie disappeared we were with Ethel,” she tells him. “Veronica said it could be Cheryl, but Cheryl wouldn’t keep Archie a secret. I mean, look at him, she’d parade him around like a show dog or something, Kevin’s words, not mine. Then,” she looks over at him to make sure he’s still listening. “There was a theory it could be a guy. Archie’s always been very into girls, but hey, anyone can have a sexual awakening.”

“Are those Kevin’s words, or Veronica’s?” he wonders aloud.

“Kevin’s, mostly hoping Archie was exploring, you know, so he’d have a chance. Regardless, Archie and Kevin have already touched, so they aren’t marked. Not that it really matters, but I don’t want Kevin to get his heart broken, I don’t think he’d survive losing Archie. That’d be like growing up thinking Lindsay Lohan really had a twin, earth-shattering.”

“Wow,” Jughead repeats, laughing now.

“What?”

“It’s—you can just tell you have a new friend, a girl-friend. That’s all,” he explains, and tucks a hair behind her ear.

“Right. Anyway,” she says, and he laughs some more. “So, the guy theory isn’t out, I just don’t think it’s the right direction, you know? This could all be solved if you would tell me, but I told Veronica as much as we’re intertwined and as much as you love me, you keep your promises, especially to Archie, and I respect that. I won’t make you tell me, just drive you crazy until you do.”

“Are you trying to butter me up about Homecoming?” Jughead asks, still chuckling.

“What? How did you get Homecoming from that?”

“Betty, you went from Polly to the Serpents, to Archie being gay, and _you’re_ asking _me_ how I got Homecoming after you made me feel all warm inside with that comment?”

“I am not the one pushing you into Homecoming. That’s Veronica. You were there when I told her. I’ve admitted defeat. That is all her,” Betty reminds him.

“But you do want to go?” he pushes.

“I would like to, yes,” she tells him honestly. “But I won’t force you into anything that you don’t want to.”

“And you really want to go?” he asks again. “I’m being serious here, Betts. We’ve never talked about dances or Homecoming, not since the shitty seventh-grade ones that were so lame Archie even skipped half of them.”

Betty turns her head to look at him. “Yes, Jug, I do, okay? I would like to go shopping for a cute dress, get dolled up with my friends, and attend a dance with my soulmate, who I know looks amazing with suspenders worn correctly…” she trails off just to smile at him. “But I’m not going to guilt you into going. I’m fine with sitting at home with you and watching movies and doing absolutely nothing as long as you’re right beside me.”

“Doing nothing with you is one of my favorite things,” Jughead begins.

“Well, it’s your birthday. I assumed we’d be doing a little more than nothing,” Betty comments, to which he grins.

“That’s my second favorite thing to do with you,” he laughs. “I’m a weirdo, I know this, how I almost never go without that stupid hat solidifies that, but—”

“Now I get what you meant by that whiplash comment,” Betty interrupts.

“Shush,” he mutters. “I want to go to Homecoming with you.”

“What?”

Jughead kisses her temple softly. “It’s something I’m against as an institution, but—if something so small will make you happy, and won’t hurt me at all, of course I want to do it.”

“Jug, you don’t have to, really,” she assures him.

“Betty,” he breathes while licking his lips. “I’m—fuck, baby, I’m weird,” he tells her again. “You never say no to going to the Bijou with me, or going to Pop’s for the millionth time, or seeing the same five Hitchcock or Tarantino movies repeatedly because no one will make movies better than them—”

“I am your favorite Hitchcock blonde, right?” she cuts him off, with a grin.

“Of course,” he affirms. “But don’t get me started on how he treated the women in his films—I’ll never finish what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Betty teases.

“What I’m getting to,” he goes on. “You do so much for me, such small trivial shit that bothers the hell out of everyone else around me, but you never say no.”

“Juggie,” she murmurs and looks up at him under heavy lids.

“I’m not being self-deprecating, I promise,” he insists. “It’s who I am, and you’ve loved me for all that I am before these marks ever showed up on our skin. I mean, Jesus, we just had a conversation about what you would be called if I joined the Serpents, that was real.”

“I was there. What are you getting at, Jug?” she asks.

“If going to Homecoming is something that will make you happy then of course I want to go. I always want to make you happy,” he finishes.

“That was a very long-winded way of conceding,” she responds in a whisper.

“I’m not conceding, I’m—I’m trying to be romantic, okay? Do you want to go to Homecoming with me or not?”

“Yes!” she says with a smile from ear to ear.

Jughead smiles wide, the kind of smile that makes her stomach flip. “And—I think we should take Veronica’s suggestion.”

“What?”

“I think you should get a dress that will show our marks and that is how we’ll tell the world.”

“What?” she repeats as though she doesn’t understand what he’s finally saying.

“I—I don’t know how to tell my dad, how to come clean about this lie. It’s—I need a push, you know? I need something to _make_ me do it. It’s become one of those things that’s harder to fix because of how long it’s been going on. I need to pull the Band-Aid and if my hand is forced I’ll have to rip it off,” he explains.

Betty’s shocked for a second before she sits up. “You’re joining the Serpents, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You—you want to go to Homecoming and show our marks and tell your parents. You’re the one buttering me up. That’s cruel, Jug,” she says hollowly as she tries to pull away.

“I’m not buttering you up!” he insists, getting up too and pulling her back to him. “That didn’t even occur to me, Betts. I swear.”

“So, you’re not joining the Serpents?”

“No! Well, I don’t know, I haven’t figured it out yet. I just have all these decisions hanging over me and I’m sick of it. I need something to give me a push, so I want to put a time limit on it, or I’ll never get the nerve. It’s not just about telling my dad. It’s explaining why I lied to him for years about the thing that makes me the happiest. I need something to help make me do it, and this is it. Going to Homecoming is for you, but that’s the only reason, for you,” he insists.

“It’s not because you’ve decided to join the Serpents and you’re trying to make it easier on me?” she asks again to make sure.

“I haven’t decided anything with the Serpents. But I did decide to go to Homecoming with my beautiful soulmate, showing our mark, because it’s time, and it will make you happy, which is all I really want.”

“This is real?” she asks, tears in her eyes again.

“Very real. No strings, no hang-ups, just wanting to make you happy.”

Betty throws herself at him in a hug, almost knocking him off the bed. “Oh, Juggie! I can’t wait to tell Veronica. I can’t wait to find a dress. I can’t wait—” he cuts her off with a kiss.

She leans into him and lets herself get lost in it, in the feeling of his lips on her skin, his hands slipping under her shirt to skim across her ribs. It makes her heart flutter and stomach somersault.

Betty doesn’t realize how deep they are in until she feels his fingers slip under her underwear. “Whoa, Jug, wait,” she breathes heavily.

“What?”

“I—I love you, you are romantic. I can’t wait for all the Homecoming stuff and your birthday, but,” she stops and bits her bottom lip. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologizes instantly. “I forgot.”

“Honestly, I did too for a second,” she admits. “But I love you, so much.”

“I love you more,” he replies and slowly brings her down to the mattress with him. “But, I think you’d love me more if you got a full eight hours tonight.”

Betty snuggles into him. “No offense but right now, a full eight hours sounds so much better than an orgasm.”

Jughead laughs and starts playing with her hair, a surefire way to make sure she falls asleep ASAP. “Go to sleep, baby, and you’ll find all this is still real in the morning.”

*

“I know you hate it, but it goes so well with your skin tone,” Veronica says as she appears out of thin air with a dress in hand.

Betty looks it over. It’s beige, would be skintight, swoop low to show her boobs, and definitely be sexy, but—

“I want color, V,” she admits.

“We could give you a splash of color with your earrings, a necklace, and shoes!” the brunette insists.

“No, I just… I think I’ll know it when I see it,” Betty tells her.

“I love you, but you’re being _so_ picky,” Veronica huffs and shoves the dress back on the rack.

“Why don’t you wear it? I’m sure there is one in your size,” Betty says.

“I can’t do beige, really, it washes me out most of the time,” Veronica sighs as they continue their search for the ‘perfect’ dress as Veronica calls it. Betty’s not so in love with the name, but she’s not _wrong._ “I still can’t believe Jughead agreed to this. Ugh, you guys are like a fairytale.”

Betty shakes her head at an outrageous lime green dress, who would even try to wear that? “From the outside, it may seem like that,” she starts, “but we’ve been through so much crap, V, believe me. Even now, Jughead has this huge decision he has to make before his birthday and I know what decision he should make, but it’s his to make.” She stops and lets out a long breath. “I can’t make it for him, I won’t be that type of partner.”

“Hey, is this something we need to talk about?” Veronica asks in a soft voice. “I know I’m not as close as you and Archie, or Kevin, definitely not Jughead,” she says with a chuckle, “but, you can trust me.”

“Oh, I know. I know, V,” Betty assures her. “If it was about me, I would tell you. But this is about Jughead, so it’s his business, you know?”

Veronica nods and motions to the small pile dresses that are a ‘maybe’ for her along with the two dresses Betty didn’t hate so far. “Let’s try some of these on, huh?”

They find a large room they can share together. Now that Veronica knows about the mark, Betty has nothing to hide.

“You look amazing in every dress, V,” Betty practically coos at Veronica’s fifth ‘maybe’. “In every color too.”

“It is a blessing and a curse,” she breathes, then smiles playfully. “I prefer black, it can make you be both sexy and innocent at the same time. I can be in mourning or a mob wife. There are so many options.”

Betty chuckles as she shucks the dress off and it pools at her feet. “Here, a little black dress, just for you,” she says and hands her a black dress with lace sleeves.

Veronica smiles suggestively before practically snatching it out of her hands. “Yes, I remember you saying black lace, and I just told you to add it to the pile, but I didn’t look at it.”

“Even if you don’t want it for Homecoming, you better buy it. You look amazing, V,” Betty insists, standing now to look her over.

“Why wouldn’t I wear this to Homecoming? It’s perfect,” Veronica states. “Sorry, I know you hate the word—”

“No, it is. The boys aren’t going to know what hit them,” Betty agrees.

“And I have the perfect black gloves to match it with,” the raven-haired girl says with a small smile.

“Hey, V,” Betty starts softly. “I think I know, but why—”

“Do I wear the gloves?” Veronica finishes, her voice low. She lets out a long breath and sits on the little bench in the changing room. “I—everyone in Riverdale knows the scandal involving my parents. My dad is in prison for embezzlement; my mom is this town’s target practice, all while suddenly being a single parent with almost every account frozen like she’s to blame for it too, when she didn’t know anything about it.”

“Veronica—”

“My parents are marked, Betty, they marked in high school, Riverdale High School. My mom was,” she stops to breathe. “She dated Fred Andrews for over a year in high school, until my dad set his eyes on her.”

“What? Your mom and Archie’s dad?”

Veronica nods. “It’s not a big deal, he was jilted for a little bit, but then he marked with Archie’s mom, of course, as we know,” she goes on. “Anyways, my mom was happy with Fred. I’ve seen the pictures. I heard stories when I was dating this boy back home, Nick St. Claire. My mom always said it’s fine to date before you mark because you’re not marked _yet_ , you know? And she had fun with Fred. He treated her like a princess. Then, they had one big fight, and my dad saw an opening and took it. They marked, and then obviously she and Fred were over after that. But in every picture I’ve seen of her and Archie’s dad… well, I’ve never seen her smile that way at my dad.”

“Oh.”

“My dad always provided for us, more than we ever needed, honestly, and he always treated me right, I was his little girl. He treated me like a princess, when I wish he’d done the same with my mom. Their mark is on their necks, it—it looks like, to me, like dead flesh, like it’s eating her from the inside out. My parents say its black crushed diamonds, but… tomatoe, tomato, I guess?”

“I know what you mean. My parents say theirs is a sharp pen going down their wrists, but to me it looks like a blade about to cut open the main vein,” Betty admits quietly.

“I’ve never heard my parents say ‘I love you’ or show affection towards each other unless we were at some event. With one look my father can have my mother go from all smiles to knowing she did something wrong somehow, and it completely ruins her night. He’s never hit her or anything like that, but the emotional abuse was there from time to time. I saw it. I tried to tell her to stand up to him but my dad is such a presence. He demands respect. You know he’s one of the smartest, most cunning person the moment he walks into a room, any room.”

“I’m sorry, V,” Betty whispers.

“Honestly, it’s hard with my father being in prison, but sometimes, I swear, when she and I are hanging out together I see that smile I used to only see in the pictures of her and Mr. Andrews together. She’s more at ease now. She doesn’t have to be so ‘on’ all the time, she can relax. I’m not saying the marks are wrong, but… my mom’s weighs her down in a way that I don’t ever want to be weighed down myself.”

Betty nods. “So you wear the gloves so you won’t mark with anyone.”

Veronica mimics her movements. “I don’t want to lose myself the way she did. I wear the gloves to protect myself and I know it means I could have missed my moment, but I’d rather be alone than be in a relationship and feel alone, because that is so much worse.”

Betty sits down next to her and pulls her into a long hug. “If I hadn’t marked with Jug I probably would have come up with the same solution to keep him. Whether or not you ever take off the gloves is up to you, but from what I’ve gathered in the past few weeks—you’re not passive. You’re not like your mom in that way and you wouldn’t let yourself be taken over like that. Whoever your soulmate is, they are definitely in for a long, crazy ride because you’re so full of life and a force to be reckoned with.”

Veronica leans into Betty’s arms with a smile. “Thank you, B.”

“Any time, V.”

She wipes at her eyes, and smiles. “No more sadness, I have something for you that you have to try on, even if you don’t like the color. I have a feeling about it.”

“For you, sure,” Betty agrees and stands.

Veronica pulls out a dress from underneath a rather large poofy purple one that belongs in the eighties. It’s pink, but—Betty agrees, she has a feeling about it.

An hour later, Betty gets dropped off by Smithers at Sunnyside, leaving her dress behind because Jughead is not to see it until the dance as per Veronica’s orders.

That may be so, but she’s so excited she can’t stop herself from at least telling him about it.

She runs up the few steps to his trailer and bursts through the door—FP gets annoyed when she knocks and Jughead is just as happy not having to get up to get the door.

“Juggie—” the words die in her throat upon seeing him surrounded by a group of Serpents, his father included, a leather jacket adorning his torso and a black eye darkening on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't jump to conclusions, peeps, trust me, and... well, doesn't Jug look great in the jacket?? 
> 
> Check for the aesthetic Jandy will post a few minutes after I post. 
> 
> Get at me @anactualcaseofthetruth


	11. Say You Wanted a Solution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some feels comin' at ya... there's a slower progression of time going on within the last chapter and the next two, but it's because I have a LOT planned so just be aware not a ton of time is passing right now. I tried to make that known, but just want to makes sure you guys know!
> 
> This chapter was Jandy approved :) always a good sign, eh? 
> 
> READ END NOTES before yelling at me please.

     “Couples with soulmarks are four times as likely to have children than couples who are not soulmarked with one another… It is starting to become a topic of conversation in that are soulmarks really soulmarks at all? Or is it merely a sign of procreation?  

Geneticists are coming to wonder if soulmarks are really a mark that shows us two people who are most likely able to produce a stronger specimen than unnatural couples do.

Is this the real reason behind soulmarks? Should they be called soulmarks at all? This is a debate that is only beginning, with no end in sight.”

From _Spotlight: Geneticists on Natural Children_ , 2016

*

Betty’s first instinct is to flee, to get away from the situation entirely, to retreat to her bedroom, curl into herself, and sink her nails into her palms.

But seeing Jughead standing there in black leather, a smile slowly falling from his face, she can’t help but stand her ground.

She zeros in on the darkening black eye and fat lip adorning his face.

So, he’s a Serpent now?

That means he ran the Gauntlet and didn’t tell her.

The fucking _liar._

“Betty,” Jughead breathes out in a puff of air, his tone surprised and too high.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” she states, the sarcasm dripping from her voice, and she ignores the surprised faces of the men surrounding him. She’s aware the innocent look and high ponytail combination doesn’t do her justice in the mixed company, but Jughead and FP are both aware her bite can be far worse than her bark.

Jughead is still merely staring at her with blinking eyes, his feet seemingly glued to the 70’s shag carpeting in the trailer’s living room.

“Boy,” FP finally breaks their stare off by slapping Jughead on the back, making him stumble forward. “Don’t be rude, introduce your girlfriend. Hi, darlin’,” he greets her, his smile warm as always.

She flashes her Cooper smile right back at him. “FP, you look great, really,” she tells him as he motions for her to come closer and hugs her—it’s not exactly out of character, but not normal behavior either.

“Always the charmer,” he chuckles and squeezes. “Listen to what he has to say,” he murmurs in her ear before pulling away.

She nods as they separate.

“Betty,” Jughead repeats, finally finding his voice. “Uh, these are the guys, there’s too many for you to remember their names,” he says in a cough. It’s a white lie, she supposes, because she would remember their names, but it’s appropriate since she honestly doesn’t care right now. “Guys, this is my…Betty.”

“That’s a new one, but I think if I tried that to get a girl I’d just get smacked,” one of the younger guys jokes, and is rewarded with gruff laughs all around. He’s got shaggy dark hair like Jughead but is a couple inches taller.

“Try getting the girl first, not just walking around thinking of them as your property without commitment,” another suggests, this one is shorter with darker skin and short hair.

That makes Betty crack a smile, but it doesn’t last long.

“Alright, let’s give these two some privacy,” FP announces and nods his head towards the door.

“I wish you were my dad,” the taller one remarks as they walk out, and FP smacks him upside the head as he passes. “Shit, nevermind,” he mumbles before disappearing through the door.

FP shuffles from foot to foot at the doorframe. “I’ll, uh, be back later, kids,” he tells them. “I gotta go talk to Toni’s uncle about his not-so-open door policy,” he says and then is gone with a wink.

As soon as the door closes Jughead jumps into action. “Betty, please—”

“I can’t even look at you right now, Jughead,” Betty cuts him off. “I only asked for one thing, a warning before I walked into this. You couldn’t even give me that?”

“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he tells her vehemently. “I—it’s not what you think, just let me explain.”

“Explain? It’s all over your face, Jug!” she just about shouts. “The black eye, the fat lip, your cheek is even swelling. Jesus, put some ice on it,” she orders while stomping into the kitchen and grabbing a bag of peas from the freezer to throw at him.

It hits him in the gut and he grunts at the force. “I don’t,” he starts as he makes his way to her in the kitchen. “I don’t care about my face, you need to listen to me. That is not what it looks like, okay?”

“I care about your face,” Betty insists, takings the peas from his hand and presses it into his cheek.

“Ow,” he hisses and grimaces. “You know these peas are probably expired, right?” he mumbles quietly.

Betty stares at the floor as she sniffles, her hand still holding the bag, his now covering hers. “I don’t care.”

“Betty,” Jughead starts, taking the peas and dropping them onto the bar between the kitchen and living room. “I promise you, I didn’t run the Gauntlet. I haven’t even talked to my dad about any decisions yet,” he tells her and hooks a finger under her chin to make her look at him. “Don’t cry, baby, please,” he pleads while resting his forehead on hers.

“Why do you have a snake on your back, then?” she whispers, still unable to look at him.

Instantly, Jughead shrugs the leather off and hurls it towards the couch. “I was walking home from the Twilight, we run kids shows Sunday afternoons, remember?” he tells her and she nods ever so slightly. “Some Ghoulies spotted me, pulled me into the alley behind the Gas-N-Go, started to rough me up.”

“Again?”

“Different guys this time, I think. The first time was kind of a blur,” he tries to joke, but it falls on deaf ears. “Anyways, Pea and Fangs were walking by on their way to the quarry, they jumped in, made it a fair fight, and when it was over we came back here to tell my dad.”

“And?” Betty urges him along and rests her hip on the bar.

“I was angry, told him I wanted to be a Serpent, that I was sick of the target on my back for being his kid,” he continues and sits on the barstool, but she doesn’t miss the pained face he makes. “He told me that being a Serpent wouldn’t get rid of the target, it would just make me a harder one, but he said he understood my anger. I am caught up in this shit because of him.”

“You are,” she agrees.

“He told me that he was waiting for me to come to him with my decision, and if I was going to join he wasn’t going to let me,” Jughead says and continues before she can cut in with questions. “My dad wants me to get out of his town and make something of myself as much as you do, and he said joining the Serpents would be like a shackle keeping me here. So, he called a meeting with the older guys and they all agreed that since things between them and the Ghoulies are getting so intense, and since I’ll continue to be part of it because of my dad, they voted me in instead of finishing the initiation.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Betty reminds him.

“Being initiated through the Gauntlet goes hand in hand with the whole ‘blood in, blood out’ mantra, being voted in means I can just as easily be voted out once we graduate and move. They agreed that being a Serpent wasn’t something I wanted for myself, it was just something I wanted for my dad so he wouldn’t have to worry about me or have me used against him. It’s become more of a necessity than a choice, really.”

“So, you’re a Serpent, but you’re not?”

“I am a Serpent now, but I won’t be forever, not in the way the rest of the guys will be,” he corrects. “My dad wants to keep me away from it, Betty, away from the violence and less than legal things that they do sometimes. He wants better for me. It was basically a personal favor the guys gave him because he’s their president and they respect him so much.”

“And you’re okay with this?” she questions, her words shaky. “You’re okay with not ‘earning’ your place like all the other guys did? You’re okay with being in because of a favor and not because you did the entire initiation?”

“I’ve been an idiot, Betts,” Jughead tells her in a sigh and she shrugs in response. “Ouch, thanks, don’t even ask what I’ve been an idiot about,” he teases.

“I can think of a few reasons,” she murmurs.

He pulls her in between his legs and cups her cheekbones. “I wanted in the Serpents out of pride and because I got my ass kicked and I was pissed. I wanted in to keep my dad from spiraling and doing something stupid and so he’d know I was safe because I had the same guys watching my back that were watching his. It wasn’t because of me or because of any personal feelings I had for them. I’m thankful they’ve accepted my dad and I realize they are giving him a sense of duty that helps him moving forward, but I was doing it for all the wrong reasons.”

“Are there right reasons for joining a gang?” Betty asks and Jughead raises an eyebrow at her.  “What?”

“I’m not going to be as involved as the other guys. Sure, I’ll hang around them sometimes at the Wyrm or drive-in, we’ll work on our bikes together, and—I like Pea and Fangs, I like Toni. A part of me does want to get the Serpent tattoo out of respect for them, because I see how they are trying to help out the Southside and make it better.”

“I see that too,” Betty agrees.

“But the truth is, when it comes down to it, I’m not a Southsider at heart,” he admits. “I’m a Northsider because I was born there, I met my soulmate there, I go to school there, and—I was naïve to think this decision was all about me. Everything I do involves you too, and our future together is way more important than how pissed I am right now,” he finishes.

“Oh, Jug,” Betty murmurs and slides her hands up his thighs. “If only you realized that two weeks ago… my neck wouldn’t be filled with knots and my sleep schedule would be so much more regular.”

He smiles and pulls her closer. “Sorry, my brain doesn’t work as fast as yours. I need a little more time.”

“That’s fine, as long as we come to the same conclusion,” she says before kissing him softly. “I love you, Juggie.”

“I love you too, Betts,” he counters and kisses her again, then hisses in pain. “Sorry, uh, they got a few good shots to the face.”

Betty sighs and picks up the peas to press against his eye. “Tell me about it, the dance is in less than two weeks, Jug.”

“You’ll just have a ruggedly handsome date is all,” he insists and smiles at her. “Don’t worry. I should be mostly healed by then.”

“Mostly being the keyword there,” she points out. “How are you actually feeling?”

“Mentally or physically?”

“I meant physically, but if you want to answer both go ahead,” Betty says with a shrug.

“Physically I’m a little sore, but I’ve been worse after attempting to work out with Archie. Mentally I’m pretty tired, but happy this whole decision is over and done with,” he answers in a long breath.

“Funny, you didn’t even actually make a decision,” she teases, earning an attempt to tickle her, and she shrieks. “You do know you still have one more thing to do before the dance, right?” she adds on tentatively.

“I’m gonna do it, Betts,” Jughead assures her. “I’m just figuring out how to bring it up. Do I mention it casually? Do I sit him down and tell him that I lied to him for over a year? But I am going to tell him, even if it means I tell him as I’m walking out the door to go pick you up.”

“I would prefer if you didn’t do that last one,” Betty admits. “That is what I came over to talk to you about though. I found my dress,” she informs him, a grin threatening to escape her lips.

“Yeah? Does it show the goods?” he jokes, a grin forming on his lips.

“Every little bit of ‘em,” she tells him with a wink.

“What’s it look like?”

“I’m not telling, but believe me when I say your eyes are going to pop out like on the cartoons,” she states confidently.

He shakes his head at her before closing his eyes and leaning into her hand. “I believe you, baby,” he murmurs softly. He looks so peaceful in that moment, even with their secret still hanging over his head.

Betty looks him over, noting the dirt smudges on his neck and palms, not to mention the bloody knuckles. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” she says in a sigh while gently tugging him off the barstool.

“Hm, is this where you play nurse and give me a sponge bath?” he asks with eyebrows wagging.

“No, this is the part where I push you into the bathroom and tell you to shower like a big boy,” she answers without missing a beat and gestures for him to go in by himself.

“Aw, Betts,” Jughead grumbles before handing her the bag of peas.

“This is what you get for continually getting into fights and pissing me off,” she tells him.

“Fine,” he mumbles and goes to enter the bathroom, but then grabs her arm as she goes to walk away. “Just so you know, those peas expired last year,” he adds on.

“Keep getting in fights and I’ll make you eat them,” Betty states, her eyes serious, a stark contrast to the smile on her lips. “Which means they are going right back in the freezer while you get in the shower. Go!” she urges, complete with a chest push to get him going.

“Will you at least come keep me company!?” he calls after her and she shakes her head at his antics.

Boys act like babies when they are hurt or sick. Even her dad, she remembers when he had pneumonia when she was little, her mom was waiting on him hand and foot, complaining the whole time through. Betty wonders if she’ll be the same one day when Jughead gets sick, or if he’ll pretend he’s fine even when he’s throwing up.

She waits until he’s actually in the shower before going back into the bathroom. “If you even ask me to get in with you I’m leaving,” she states and plops down on the closed toilet

“Yes, ma’am,” is his response through the plastic liner, there’s a shower curtain too, but it’s so old and been washed so many times it’s practically see-through itself.

Betty makes a final decision to make the boys a bathroom basket—it’s going to have a new curtain and liner, a loofa, some extra-large shampoo and conditioner (so it will last them a while), perhaps a shaving kit, and amazing smelling body wash. Betty also makes a mental note to get Veronica and Kevin’s thoughts on what to add to it.

“You know,” Jughead starts, interrupting her thoughts, “keeping someone company often involves conversation.”

“You know,” Betty mimics, “needing someone to keep you company while you’re in the shower is the kind of thing a six-year-old does when they’re still learning how to do it themselves.”

“Wait,” Jughead stops to stick his head out of the curtain. There are suds in his hair and for a moment he actually looks like a six-year-old, and it makes her smile. “You were showering by yourself at six?”

“Yeah,” she can’t help but giggle. “My mom sat with me until I felt comfortable, but honestly I liked the silence of her not hovering, even if for ten minutes, you know? And then I would call her in when I thought I was done so she could make sure all the shampoo and conditioner was washed out of my hair.”

“Wait,” he repeats before scrubbing his hands over his eyes to protect them from the soap, “you’re saying I was supposed to be showering alone at six?”

“Juggie, everyone moves at their own pace. Just because I was showering alone at six, doesn’t mean you needed to be,” she assures him, realizing how ridiculous this topic of conversation is. She’s also aware Jug does this when she’s nervous or anxious, or is worried of her having an anxiety attack. He makes her laugh and feel like a kid again.

“I just feel so inadequate now,” he mumbles before disappearing back behind the curtain.

Jughead takes the shortest showers imaginable, how he does it with hair that bouncy and soft is beyond her, so Betty knows his shower is close to being over.

“It’s hot in here,” she sighs, the steam overtaking the small bathroom now completely encompassing her.

“So take off your clothes,” is Jughead’s answer without hesitation or much thought.

“What did I say about hitting on me while you’re in there?” she demands.

“You said I couldn’t ask you to join me, not that I couldn’t flirt and-or hit on you,” he practically sing-songs his response.

“Whatever, but taking off my shirt wouldn’t work, it’s sheer, it’s already practically nothing,” Betty insists.

“Maybe, but you girls wear your layers. You got the shirt, the tank top, the bra, I say just take it all off,” he says easily.

“You, sir,” Betty starts while standing and opens the curtain to peek at him. He pretends to be shocked for a moment, then just grins. “Have lost your privilege of company. I’m going to make you an ice pack so we can keep that swelling down.”

Jughead leans out from under the spray to kiss her on the lips softly. “Your shirt might be sheer, but I bet it’s getting sticky. Even if you’re leaving the bathroom, I suggest taking it off.”

She pecks him on the lips before pulling away. “I’m sure you do.” She starts to let the curtain go and make her exit but stops and looks over her soulmate carefully.

“What?” he asks, noticing her hesitation.

“I love you, and I love how you make me smile when I’m anxious or nervous, but—”

“Uh-oh, am I in trouble?” he questions, his eyes big and lips pouty and she wants to climb in to put them to better use, perhaps between her legs.

“No,” she whispers, then smiles at him, a smile that overtakes her entire face and makes him mirror one back at her the same way. “But I know you started showering by yourself right when Jellybean was born, which means you were five, and that means you started before me.”

Somehow, Jughead’s smile gets even bigger. “Of course you remember that.”

“Why do you think I pushed my mom so hard to let me shower by myself? I wanted to be on the same level as you,” she admits.

“You and your competitive streak, Betty Cooper,” he sighs with a shake of his head, “you’ll be the death of me.”

Betty flashes teeth and bites her lip while looking him up and down one last time. “Probably, but what a way to go,” she agrees and then is gone before he can react.

Of course, the Jones’ don’t own an actual icepack, so Betty improvises with a sandwich bag of ice, then finds an almost threadbare rag to over top so it’s not straight ice on face.

The shower shuts off with an angry hiss from the pipes and she bolts for Jug’s bedroom to get there before he does. She’s still bouncing from jumping into position when he comes through the door, a towel wrapped around his waist, and another smaller one he’s rubbing over his head, blocking his view.

“Hey, when do you think your dad will be back?” Betty asks casually with a head tilt.

Jughead finishes drying off his hair by dropping the towel on the ground and looks up at her, his mouth open and ready to answer, but nothing comes out once laying eyes on her.

Her shirt and tank top joined his dirty laundry on the floor.

“I like making you speechless,” she states and bites her lip, “but my question still needs to be answered.”

He shakes his head at her and grabs his faithful black comb to run through his damp tendrils. “You’re definitely full of surprises,” he tells her, his eyes never leaving her lacy white bra clad upper half.

“Jug, your dad?” Betty presses as he makes his way towards her.

“I don’t know, probably a little while. He doesn’t want to get in the middle of our fights, and so he’ll make sure he gives us plenty of time to talk things out,” he finishes while untucking his towel, leaving him bare as it drops.

Betty can’t help but turn pink and smile. “I can see you’re getting excited,” she states while nodding to his growing erection, “but we have some business to handle first,” she reminds him while holding up hydrogen peroxide.

“This whole nurse stuff isn’t fun without the outfit or a sponge bath, at least,” he mumbles before collapsing onto his bed dramatically.

“Alright, be good and you’ll be rewarded,” Betty teases as she climbs up his body to straddle his waist. “Here, switch this between your eye, cheek, and lip every ten to fifteen minutes, it will help with the swelling,” she tells him while holding the makeshift icepack to his cheek.

His hand covers hers and nods slightly, showing he’s paying attention to more than just her lace covered breasts. She knows the ice pack is likely to be forgotten soon, but it’s worth a try.

“So, where did he go?” she asks while preparing a cotton ball to clean his cuts with.

“Who?” Jughead asks, his tone breathy. She knows her moving around on his lap is making it difficult for him to focus.

Betty leans down to better inspect his eye, fully aware of what she’s actually doing, and smiles as she presses the antiseptic to his eye, even when he winces. “Your dad. He said he was going to talk about some door policy?”

“You really want to talk about my dad right now?” he questions with only one eye open.

“Mhm,” she answers while pulling the ball of cotton away, and then blowing on the wetness left behind.

Jughead shivers underneath as she blows. “Uh, Toni and Tat’s uncle’s place. He has custody of them—their mom OD’ed a couple years back. After that the Serpents outlawed drugs in the community, and in the club, or at least tried to. It’s a work in progress.”

“Every drug?” Betty interrupts before moving his hand and in the icepack up to his eye so she can focus on his cheek.

“Pretty much, except weed because it will be legal soon, and so far the number of users has gone down on the Southside. Prescription pills are starting to become an issue because this area has a lot of laborers with bosses who try to cut corners so they can get hurt easily, but that’s a whole other issue,” Jughead goes on.

Betty sits up and briefly looks him over, then grabs a particular Band-Aid to put over the cut on his cheek. “Go on, Toni and Tat’s uncle.”

“Right, um, he has custody of them and doesn’t care what they do as long as he continues to get help from the State for taking them in. But sometimes he turns into an asshole and locks them out, calls them names and shit, and it’s annoying because they are good girls, you know? I mean, Tat’s pretty heavily involved with the Serpents, she’s been in since she was fifteen and was finally allowed to join. She’s done most of the tattoos you see and runs the parlor a few blocks away. Toni always goes to school, gets good grades, and works at the Red & Black. When Tat turns eighteen in a couple months she wants to get her own place and take Toni in. My dad doesn’t want her to take on a financial burden like that so soon, so he went to talk to their uncle, tell him not to be a dick, and remind him that his life could be so much worse if the Serpents felt like it.”

Betty bites her lip while dabbing the cotton ball over his, and sits up once she’s finished, doing a final look over before beginning to pack away the First-Aid kit with a mental note to replenish it soon. With how much Jughead seems to be getting his ass kicked she’ll need the supplies to take care of him, and she knows the boys won’t think to do it themselves.

“What?” Jughead says so softly she thinks she’s imagined it, but when she looks up he’s staring back at her expectantly.

“Nothing,” she assures him while sitting back on her haunches.

“Don’t do that,” he pleads. “Tell me what you’re thinking. This honesty thing goes both ways, babe.”

Betty wraps her arms around his shoulders, the heat from his shower still radiating off his skin and she wants to burrow herself into him, in every way. “Do you think we’re being naïve?”

“I need a little more clarity than that, Betts,” Jughead insists, his hands opening to almost completely cover her bare back.

“I—I’ll admit I don’t understand the Serpent stuff, part of me just doesn’t get it, but—” she stops and leans forward to brush their noses together. “I understand it’s something you believe in and respect, so I try to do the same, and with time I’ll do better, I just,” she pauses and closes her eyes, trying to think of how to word her feelings. “I can’t help but still worry. Worry about what being ‘in’ actually means, how it will change the way you’re seen on the Southside, and within your dad’s inner circle or whatever. I know you said it’s different, being voted in, and I do believe you, but—I guess I just need time to wrap my head around it. Do you think it’s possible to do research on something like this? Being fully informed usually helps give me some peace of mind.”

Jughead smiles at her, it’s all warmth and fondness, making the coil in her stomach loosen, even if only a little. “Do you know how much I love you, Betty Cooper?”

“A fair amount, I’d say,” Betty answers with her bottom lip out. “But I feel like I’m being made fun of.”

“You’re not, I’m serious. You’re worrying about how much you should worry,” he tells her and she can’t help but smile at the realization—it’s true. “But I need you to believe me when I say I’m going to do my best to keep my nose clean and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure our dream comes true. We’re going to get out of here, Betty. We’re going to get out of Riverdale together, and we’re going to have an amazing life, I promise.”

“I believe you,” she whispers, making sure that her lips brush up against his as she spoke. “You’re my best friend.”

“Can you say that again after I get my phone? I want to record it to destroy Kevin,” he says seriously, but his tone is still so soft and vulnerable, it makes her want to giggle.

Betty looks up at him under heavy-lidded eyes and can’t help but lick her lips. “But I’d much rather you destroy me.”

“Yeah?” he questions, even bending so their eyes connect. “Any suggestions how?”

Her hands slide down his still-slick chest, her nails raking just a little, and it makes his eyes turn almost black. “I like when you take control. It’s like you know my body better than I do.”

“That’s the goal, yeah,” he agrees and nudges her nose with his. “Get up.”

“What?”

“You heard me, up,” he orders complete with a smack to her bum.

Betty grins while shuffling off his lap to stand before him next to the bed. He moves to sit before her, still naked of course, and she smiles fondly down at his erection. It’s been hard for a while, ever since his shower, probably.

Automatically, Betty starts to get down on her knees—she’s not sure if it’s weird or common, but she likes getting Jughead off. It makes her feel sexy, powerful, even erotic, and that feeling is addictive to her.

“No,” Jughead stops her, keeping her standing. “I’m easy, remember? I want this to be about you. You’ve had a stressful few weeks because of me, let me help you unwind,” he insists.

Betty cups his cheeks and tilts her head down to kiss him. As their lips move she feels Jughead unbutton her jeans and push them down her legs. “So what do you have in mind?”  

“Something like this,” he murmurs while slowly tugging down her lacy black undies.

“I like—” Betty stops mid-sentence as Jughead grabs her by the back of the knee and lifts a leg over his shoulder before burying his face in her pink heat. It makes her mouth open in shock and her hands fall forward to grip his shoulders for support. “Holy shit.”

He stays there until her leg starts to wobble and shake, the position and weight distribution throwing her off. Jughead acts quickly, simply tugging on her free leg to join the other as he lays back on the bed, making it so she’s riding his shoulders.

“Jug, I,” she begins but is stopped again with his mouth taking up its previous residence. Betty leans on the wall as Jughead continues to expertly eat her out—they’d never done this position before, and _fuck_ , she likes it.

Her pussy starts to ache in a way that is recently all too familiar.

She wants something inside her.

Betty wants _Jughead_ inside her.

What he’s doing feels good, amazing, marvelous, but she wants _more_.

She’s close, so close, but not quite there, and it’s making the ache increase tenfold.

Jughead switches gears by pushing up on her butt and shifts so his tongue can reach inside of her and his nose starts to nudge at her clit.

It’s not exactly what she really wants, but it’s just enough.

Betty falls over the edge after a minute, like a wave crashing after watching it build up in the horizon, engulfing her and draining all her energy with its intensity.

She’s panting against the wall as she comes, her fingers reaching for purchase but finding nothing.

Without caring how she lands, Betty falls to the side and frees Jughead from between her thighs. Her eyes are closed, breathing hollow, skin flushed, and for the first time in almost a week, she feels like she’s flying, weightless.

The post-orgasmic feeling is her favorite. When she’s so sated she can’t bring herself to care about school, how the newest issue of the Blue & Gold is coming along, how crazy her parents are, or what Polly’s doing and how her _baby_ is.

All Betty feels is loved, warm, free, and it’s all because of Jughead.

“I love you so fucking much,” she murmurs as she opens her eyes to find him hovering above her, an easy smile adorning his face.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby,” Jughead promises.

“What?”

He grins and presses a kiss to her lips. Quickly, it’s deepened, their tongues caressing one another. It reminds Betty of when they first marked and spent hours only kissing. Sometimes she misses the simplicity, back when the most exciting thing she had experienced was his hand covering her breast—everything was so new, so overwhelming. She remembers when the most erotic thing she had ever done is touch her bare chest to Jug’s so their marks could touch.

Jughead’s still an amazing kisser, he’s amazing at _everything_ , but it’s taking her longer and longer to come to an orgasm, and she doesn’t want him to think something’s wrong.

Nothing is wrong, she just wants more.

The ache returns in full force as Jughead’s tongue swirls around her peaked nipple, and she can’t stop a strangled moan from escaping. “Ju—Jug, more,” she pleads.

He reaches his free hand up to pinch at her other nipple and pay attention to her ignored breast.

Betty’s back arches, she gasps, but it’s not what she means. “No, Jug, inside me,” she tries to tell him. “I need you inside me.”

His lips stop their assault on her chest so he can look up at her. “Betty…”

She reaches down to take a hold of his hand and pushes it down between her legs. “I want you, all of you,” she admits, “but this will work too.”

He nods before connected their lips once more, then pressing his thumb against her sensitive nub before moving lower to check and see if she’s still wet. Betty opens her legs wide for access and he coats his two middle fingers before sinking them deep inside her.

“Oh my God, _yes_ ,” Betty cries, breaking their kiss.

He doesn’t so much move in and out of her as he rocks his hand inside of her, his curled fingers massaging that special spot.

“Holy fuck,” she whimpers. “Jug, you’re so fucking _fuck_!”

“Christ, I love you like this, Betts,” he murmurs against her ear, his tone making her shiver. “You’re so fucking open, so present, you’re raw,” he tells her.

“Jug, I can feel it already, I’m so,” she stops in a pant as he finally starts to thrust his fingers in and out, in and out, but his plunges are shallow so he’s never really out of her.

“I can feel it too, baby,” he says quietly. “I can’t wait until the day I’m finally inside of you, part of you,” he tells her as his fingers do a scissor motion inside her. “I want you all the fucking time.”

Betty stares deep into his blue eyes and nods repeatedly. “I want…you,” she mewls. “Can you—I’m so close,” she begs.

“You want this?” he questions and once again curls his fingers over her G-spot.

“Ye—yes,” she shudders.

Jughead presses into her over and over, the force changing sporadically until she’s putty in his hands, literally, and falling over the edge once more, this time getting completely lost in the waves of bliss.

Betty is aware she is still shaking as she comes down from her orgasm, but can’t stop herself. When he slowly removes his fingers from inside her she whines unashamedly.

“You should have told me, Betty,” Jughead says against her neck, his lips kissing any skin within reach. “That you were feeling this way.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathes while trying to stop her body from trembling.

“Don’t be sorry, please never say sorry to me about this stuff,” he insists. “I just thought we hadn’t fooled around in the past couple days because you were so stressed about the Serpents, and your parents, and Polly, and school—”

“I was. I am,” she interrupts, finally gaining some control of her body. She reaches up to cup his cheeks and he leans into her hands. “But I ache for you all the time, Jug.”

“I want you all the fucking time, but I’ve been in some sort of variation of that since the first time I touched my dick and realized what it could do, so,” he stops and smiles at her softly.

“I’m ready to have sex,” Betty confesses. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he tells her.

“I know, I know. Fuck, I’m so excited for it too,” she assures him. “I just—I hear my mom in my head reminding me how young I am, but I’ve never felt my age, not since the first moment I touched you. Then, I think of Polly, seventeen and pregnant, kicked out of the house, disowned because of what sex can do. And I’m nervous because—I want you so much all the time just imagining what it will be like. I’ve always been too interested in soulmarks because of us, and of all the research I’ve done, it’s the Egyptians that fascinate me most. There are stories of couples who can feel what the other is feeling, can tell what the other is doing without even being in the same location. In those relationships, the stories tell of sex and how once they started, it was like they couldn’t stop. I know they are just stories, but I’ve idolized them my whole life. I’m not saying I’ll be upset if we aren’t like that, honestly, I’ll probably be relieved, but what if we are? What will we do? It makes me worry and—”

“Sh,” Jughead breathes against her lips before kissing them.

“How much I want you, it can’t be normal. How I literally ache for you, sometimes it can honestly hurt. I feel empty and—” he stops her again with a kiss.

“Whenever you decide you’re ready, mentally, physically, emotionally, I’m right there with you. I’m nervous too, Betty,” he admits. “You hear how it hurts for the girl, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. I worry that the second I’m inside you I’ll blow and be so spent that I’ll let you down.”

Betty can’t help but giggle. “You won’t. I only joke when I say you’re easy, Jug.”

“I don’t know, I imagine finally slipping inside you and just the thought of it makes me—” he ends with a long sigh.

“This can’t be normal, can it? The way we feel… Kevin’s not a virgin, he was never like this. Veronica’s not a virgin either—”

“They didn’t have sex with their soulmate for their first time,” he reminds her.

“Well, who am I supposed to ask? My parents?” Betty questions.

“No, fuck, please don’t,” he chokes out in a laugh.

“I know I’m scared, but—I want to do it, Jug. And I want to do it the night of the Homecoming dance, for your birthday. I know it’s not technically until the next day, but you know what I’m trying to do here,” she rambles.

“If that’s what you want,” Jughead murmurs. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I only feel peaceful and relaxed when I’m with you. I don’t want to wait anymore. I know I’m only fifteen, and you’ll only be sixteen, but fuck it. It’s our choice, our decision. I know virginities are a social construct, but of course, I want to give mine to you.”

“The cheapest, best birthday gift ever,” Jughead teases and kisses her softly.

“Cheap? That dress was not cheap, nor will the undergarments be, Mister,” she insists, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Heard you loud and clear, Ma’am,” he states in a far too serious tone that makes her giggle.

“Now, if I remember correctly, I think it’s my turn to lend you a hand,” Betty practically purrs, instantly changing the mood. “Or should I say mouth?”

She just gets underneath the covers when Jughead’s door opens.

“Hey, Jug. Did Betty leav—holy shit!” FP asks as he opens the door, and Betty is both happy to be under the blankets and mortified.

“Dad!” Jughead sits up, tugging the blanket with him and exposes part of her legs.

“Oh my, God,” she squeaks as she curls in on herself. It’s only her legs, but still. It’s the fact that Jughead’s father knows what they were doing—what she was doing.

“What the hell is that on your chest?” his father demands.

“Dad—”

“What the fuck, Jug?” FP cuts him off.

“Dad! Can we—Betty’s in here!” Jughead exclaims, his voice full of panic.

“Clothes, now. Kitchen in two minutes. Both of you,” FP orders before closing the door with a slam that makes her jump.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jughead chants as he literally rolls out of bed, half taking the comforter with him.

Betty holds onto her half, and so is jerked across the bed. “Jug—Jug, I,” she starts to heave. “He—what do we do?”

Jughead, somehow, already has boxers on and is jumping into a pair of jeans. “We tell him the truth. Or, I tell him the truth,” he answers before getting on his knees in front of her. “Betty baby, tell me what you need, are you okay?” he asks.

Betty melts under his gaze. His father just saw their soulmarks, is probably pissed, and Jughead is worried about her anxiety.

“Do you want to be here for this? I can arrange to get you home before this goes down. I have no problem telling my dad to wait for half an hour. I need you to be okay. I can handle this by myself,” he assures her.

“No. No, I want to be here for you. It’s my mark too,” she says, her voice shaky.

“Okay, get dressed. He’s not very patient,” Jughead encourages while handing her the underwear discarded earlier.

“Jug, I can’t find my shirt!” Betty exclaims a minute later. “Or my tank top. What the fuck!”

“Here, wear this,” he urges and hands her one of his plaid button-ups. She grabs it hastily and buttons it up before tying the bottom at her stomach so it doesn’t hang.

“Do I look—do I look okay?” she asks.

“Uh, your ponytail isn’t so Betty-like anymore,” he tells her honestly. “Now, c’mon.”

Betty fixes her hair as they travel down the small hallway to the kitchen where Jughead’s dad is somehow managing to pace in such a limited area. She settles on a messy bun before wrapping her hands in the long sleeves so she doesn’t end up reopening her scars on accident.

“Dad—” Jughead starts, but FP descends on him, pulling at his shirt to show their mark.

His father’s thumb pulls at the skin where their mark is as if he thinks it will smudge or disappear. “This is—it’s real?”

Jughead shrugs out of his dad’s hold and steps back to be closer to Betty. “Yes, it’s real. We didn’t draw it or get a tattoo. It’s a soulmark, our mark.”

FP looks to Betty, who pulls at Jughead’s button-up to show her’s too.

“You… you two are soulmates?”

Jughead merely nods in response, his hand blindly reaching out behind him for Betty’s. Instantly, she takes his hand in hers, silently providing him comfort.

The Jones men simply stare at one another for a long minute.

“Don’t make me ask, Jug,” his father finally breaking the silence.

“No, Mom doesn’t know,” her boyfriend answers, surprising her. She thought he would want to know how long or when. “The only one in our family that knows is JB.”

“Our family. So your folks know?” FP asks in her direction.

Betty nods promptly. “They do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you… didn’t you want me to know?” he questions, his eyes moving from his son to her and back.

Betty’s heart lurches, seeing the same hurt in FP’s eyes she’s seen in Jughead’s before.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Jughead confesses. “It happened after Mom met Billy and everything went to shit. I didn’t want Mom to think that because I marked I understood why she did the things she did. I love Betty more than life itself, but—” he stops to look back at her. “I’ve always loved Betty, I didn’t need a mark to tell me that. Mom, she let it dictate her life. The instant she marked she abandoned us, she started putting Billy first. I didn’t want you to think that just because I marked it meant I was going to do the same thing.”

FP’s eyes blink in quick succession and Betty thinks she sees his bottom lip quiver. “Jug, you listen to me,” he begins and moves forward to grab onto Jughead’s shoulders. “You might not take after me, you might not play football or think the way I do, but I know you, I do,” he says with a hand over Jughead’s heart. “I know you in here, and if you had told me you marked when it happened, whenever it happened, this is what I would have done because I know you’re nothing like your mother,” he finishes while pulling Jughead into a hug that breaks their hands apart.

Jughead hesitates, but only for a second before he’s holding onto his father as tight as he’s being held himself.

“I am so happy for you, son,” FP whispers. “So happy.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jughead replies just as quietly.

Betty wants to turn away, feels like she’s intruding on a private moment, but the boys separate, and FP gives her that fond smile of his. “So, it looks like you’re stuck with us, huh?” he asks in a chuckle.

“I’m just blessed, I guess,” she answers and he hugs her too. Their hug is much quicker, but Betty finds herself getting misty all the same.

“Well, if there is one thing that has definitely been proven, it’s to never doubt our Betty here,” FP jokes.

“You’re telling me, you know what it’s like to never win a fight?” Jughead agrees, only to get smacked in the stomach by Betty playfully.

“Jug, I know I said some things about marks, even made a few comments about you, Betty,” FP admits, “but I just—I didn’t want you to end up like me.”

“I know, I know you were just looking out for me,” Jughead tells him. “It’s okay. For a while there, honestly, I was worried I’d end up like you too. But Betty…” Jughead stares her fondly for a moment. “She never wavered. I think fate didn’t want to piss her off, and I don’t like to either. She can be very scary.”

“I am not! I’m not scary!” Betty insists.

“Sorry to tell you, Betty, but you, uh, you take after your mom, and she definitely is a force to be reckoned with herself,” FP tells her. “I got a broken nose for saying the wrong thing to her once.”

“My mom broke your nose?” Betty asks with crinkled eyebrows.

“Your mom doesn’t like to talk about it, and because of how close you and Jug always were I always respected that, but there’s no keeping you apart now, so,” FP shrugs before going on, “your mom, she was born on the Southside. You don’t grow up on the Northside and throw a right hook like she does.”

“Why… why didn’t she ever mention it? To me or Polly or anyone?”

“She’s ashamed, she marked with your dad and has been living the sweet life ever since. I don’t blame her, I had my taste of the Northside, it’s definitely different from the trailer park,” FP sighs.

Betty shakes her head in disbelief. Her parents don’t talk about when they were young much. Her dad’s parents live in Montana, they visit every summer, but her mom’s are a question mark. She wonders if they still live on the Southside, if they are alive or dead, or just dead to her mom.

“Hey,” Jughead grabs hold of her hand and attention. “Pizza, on my dad. We’ll get the Jones special,” he insists.

“You mean when you each get your own pizza?” she asks with a smile. “Jug, I’ll never eat a whole pizza by myself.”

“Not with that attitude, you won’t,” FP remarks, and both her and Jughead laugh. “Now, pick what kind you want. This is a celebration. My son has a soulmate, she’s amazing in every way, and I know she’ll kick his ass when necessary.”

“Veggie, please,” Betty tells him, and both boys look at each other knowingly. “Hey, you said I could pick any kind I want—”

“And you can, veggie it is. At least you know with that kind of pizza you won’t need to share,” FP teases. “You can let your mom know I’ll drop you off after dinner if she asks, and if I know your mom, she will.”

As if on cue Betty’s phone beeps from her pocket. She pulls it out and deflates. “It’s Veronica. She wants to know Jughead’s measurements?” she says to herself. “What?”

“Hey, she’s your best friend. I want a meat lover’s, Dad,” Jughead calls out to his father as he leads her out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Betty hears FP dialing the phone and lets Jug pull her down into the couch. If she was told this morning this was how the day was going to go, she would have laughed, and then worried all day that it wouldn’t happen.

But as she curls into Jughead’s side, his arms around her, she can’t help but just be thankful that it did.

Later, when it’s late into the night, and Betty’s at her window seat journaling so she won’t forget a single thing about the day, she can’t help but notice her red-headed neighbor not-so-sneakily exiting the back door of his house and running around to the front.

Betty sits up just in time to see him climb into an old VW Bug before driving off.

She stares at the road where the vehicle was only a moment ago and thinks that she finally has a clue to who Archie’s mystery girlfriend could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE you get mad, know I very much dislike Grundy too, and I plan to handle that storyline much better than the show (hopefully). Just trust me, okay? 
> 
> ALSO- know I am handling the Serpents very differently here than is done in the show, I just want you all to know that. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, even if you're mad at me.


	12. You Can Keep to Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to go another month without posting. I'm sorry! My depression took a hit.   
> I hope the next one gets posted sooner, I already have it started in my head!
> 
> As always, a massive thanks to Jandy <3

     "Age is always heavily discussed when it comes to soulmarks. Due to research we know around what age to expect them, when most mark, and everything in between. One of the rarely discussed topics, due to it's taboo, are the outliers. What happens when a young teenager marks with someone in their twenties, or even older? It's not common, only a handful of cases are known, but this proves that it does happen. 

 

There is no protocol when this occurs but to follow the law and wait until the underage party is eighteen. 

Of course, there are extremists who say soulmarks should be an exception. The few cases that have made it to the courts have been dismissed, insisting the law is to be followed, even if soulmarks are involved."

From  _Is Age Just A Number?,_ 2017

*

“Jug, where does your dad think you are?”

His fingers never falter on their way down her bare back. The feather-light touch keeps making her shiver. “He knows exactly where I am,” her soulmate finally answers before pressing his lips to the dip of her spine.

Betty sighs with contentment into the pillow her arms are folded under as Jughead leaves open, wet kisses along the center of her back. “So, he’s okay with you being here, with me, in my room, while my parents think I’m asleep?”

“Well, we didn’t discuss specifics,” he corrects.

“I just don’t want you to get in trouble,” Betty whispers.

Jughead rejoins her lying down on the bed. “My dad is the leader of the Serpents and you think he’s going to ground me or something for sneaking into my girlfriend’s bedroom?”

Betty simply shrugs as her eyes slide closed. “I don’t know how it works. I don’t know if the father/son dynamic overrides the gang leader/member one or whatever. I’m just an old lady, I service my man and keep my nose out of it—ah!” she shrieks when he tickles her side. “Don’t! My parents think I’m sleeping!”

“All you do is service me, huh?” he questions as she continues to squirm away from his fingers.

“Hm, I definitely do more than that,” she murmurs after finally getting control of his hands, pinning them on either side of his head, and burrowing into his chest as she lies atop it.

“Yeah, you feel good too,” he agrees and wiggles his hands-free to wrap around her.

“Mm, so do you,” she whispers as her eyes slide closed.

Jughead rolls so she is now lying on her side, tucked into his chest, and when she sighs with a smile on her face he can’t help but mirror it.

“Baby, I should get out of here if you’re falling asleep—”

“No!” Betty insists, her eyes snapping open. “No. I’m awake. Keep talking, we were barely together this weekend. Cheryl added an extra practice and Veronica wanted to go over specifics for the dance- I’m talking every little detail- so we had a sleepover, and Kevin joined so it was extended, and—”

“I know, I know,” Jughead interrupts. “And I was doing grunt Serpent stuff at the Wyrm. Just because I was voted in doesn’t mean I get out of the newbie shit.”

“I know, I got some lovely Snapchats of dirty bathroom floors and that video of Sweet Pea, I think, gagging over a pile of vomit after someone punched someone else in the gut? You certainly have an eye, babe,” Betty reminds him.

“I just wanted you to feel included,” Jughead says affectionately. “And I _loved_ the Snap of Kevin singing ‘Under the Sea’ while wine-drunk, that was definitely worth a couple replays.”

Betty grins. “One of the finer parts of being boujee, since Veronica’s mom doesn’t buy and stock the liquor cabinet, she doesn’t know when stuff goes missing.”

“But, I think, my favorite thing you do when you’re drunk is tell me how much you love me. I mean, you really, really love me,” he teases.

“I wasn’t drunk, I only had three glasses. I was just…warm and fuzzy and you have the most amazing cheekbones,” Betty corrects. “So I wanted to tell you.”

“Babe, you said they were your favorite thing to sit on.”

Her face is flushed, she knows, but hopes Jughead can’t see just how pink. “So? It was the truth. And you were very nice to let me prove it as soon as you crawled through my bedroom window.”

“I’m a giver,” Jughead agrees. “But, as much as you really, really love me, and my cheekbones, and my voice, I’m not going anywhere, ever, so you can sleep.”

“Not true, when I go to sleep you’re not going to be here when I wake up,” she whispers morosely.

“Low blow, Betts,” Jughead says in a grumble. She loves when his voice gets deep like that, rumbly and dark. It makes something in her stomach flutter.

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that,” she replies. “I meant—I love that we met so young. Yes, it’s come with its fair share of challenges, but we got to grow up together, learn together—”

“Go through awkward puberty together?” Jughead attempts to finish and Betty chortles. “I’m serious. I stayed the same height for, like, a year while Archie grew and grew. _You_ were taller than me.”

“Girls grow faster than boys—”

“Save it, I heard the spiel every other day when we were kids,” Jughead sighs.

“And then what happened, huh? You grew, like, a foot in two months,” Betty reminds him.

“Yeah, I grew so fast my pants didn’t fit. You could see three inches of my ankles. I’m not into appearances, but that was embarrassing. My parents didn’t have the money to just keep buying me new pants.”

“Can I get back to what I was saying, please?” Betty asks and is answered with silence. “Thank you. Anyways, I love that we grew up together, but we’ve been together for ten years, and normal couples together that long are living together, married, with children, and I’m not saying I need all that now, but—I feel like we’re still on square one because we met so young.”

Jughead leans in to rub their noses together. “I don’t know, I think we’re at least on square three.”

Betty nudges her shoulder with his. “That’s not the point.”

“Square four or five after Friday night,” he goes on.

“Jug!” Betty interjects in a giggle.

“I’m supposed to be the negative one here, Betts,” he reminds her. “I know, it sucks, I wish I could wake up next to you every morning too, but you gotta think about the good stuff. Like, at least we don’t live far apart. Your window isn’t hard for me to climb into, honestly, I use it more than the front door. We go to school together, work the Blue & Gold together, our parents approve of us being together, and we have friends who help us lie about where we really sleep most weekends.”

Betty beams at her soulmate. “Jughead Jones, did I turn you into an optimist?”

“When it comes to us, yes. Everything else, no.”

“Still, baby steps. We have the whole rest of our lives together,” Betty murmurs before pressing her lips against his.

“I can’t wait,” she agrees and smiles as he rolls so he’s on top now rather than lying side by side. “Mm, what’re you doin’?” she breathes as he begins moving down her body.

Jughead looks up at her from the valley of her breasts. “Well, I want you to get some sleep and stop over thinking everything, so I think another orgasm is necessary.”

“I love the way your brain works,” Betty sighs as he continues his way down.

*

“Sweetie, are you sure that’s appropriate for school?” are the first words her mother says to her in the morning as she finishes her way down the steps.

Betty looks down at her pink sweater, black suede skirt, and the thigh-highs she has yet to give back to Veronica. Her hair is up, of course, but she used a curling wand to give the ponytail some extra bounce.

“It’s not against school rules. The skirt is longer than my fingertips,” Betty answers easily.

“That may be so, but is it appropriate for _you_?” her mother asks.

“The rules are the same for me as everyone else last I checked,” she says with a shrug before brushing past her.

“I don’t like this, Elizabeth,” Alice tells her while following her into the kitchen where her father is.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you,” Betty answers and grabs a breakfast bar.

“I don’t like this attitude of yours either,” she comments.

“I don’t like plenty, but I’ve learned to live with it, I suggest you do the same.”

“Betty,” Hal intervenes. “There are rules in this house, and you treating your mother and me with respect is one of them.”

“And if I don’t follow your rules am I going to be thrown out just like Polly or just locked in my room with bars on the windows?” Betty questions.

“Elizabeth! That is enough! I don’t want to hear another word about Polly, you understand?” Alice demands.

“Right, you already threw her out, let’s just forget she ever existed. We really should get to taking all the pictures of her down,” she remarks while walking back through the house towards the front door.

“Elizabeth Louise Cooper! You get back here!” her mother calls after her.

“Or what, you’ll ground me? Go ahead. Then, why don’t you try and tell me I can’t see Jughead anymore. You’ll find out what it’s like to lose two daughters. I wonder what the town will say?”

“Betty, do not,” Alice says forcefully, “do this.”

“What? Make me choose? I think we both know what my answer will be, so you can put me in that position or let me walk out this door to go to school. It’s up to you.”

When Alice grits her teeth, but says nothing, Betty nods with an eerily similar smile to the one her mother produces when she knows she’s in control of a situation and walks out the door.

Once the wood slams shut behind her, Betty deflates. She hates how being at home feels like war, every interaction with her parents a new battle, nothing ever won or gained, just an unsteady stalemate.

When she hits the sidewalk the mint green Mini Cooper assaults her senses as it does every day. She refuses to get in it, study for her permit, or say it’s hers. Betty hates that they gave her a car that was supposed to go to Polly.

She’s slowly making her way to school, nibbling on her breakfast bar with both hands to keep them busy when she hears Archie calling her name. She turns and waits for her red-headed friend to catch up. It doesn’t take long, the boy runs two miles every morning, minimum.

“Hey! Happy Monday, yeah?”

“Since when are you this psyched for school?” she asks as they begin walking in-sync.

“My classes aren’t so bad this year. I’m keeping up so far, at least. Football is going good, music is going great, and my best friends are happy. What isn’t there to be psyched about?” Archie questions in return.

“Well, how are your parents doing?” Betty wonders softly as she continues to nibble.

Archie grips onto the straps of his backpack tighter. “Uh, my Mom’s in Chicago, she’s busy with a case right now, so…” he finishes with a shrug.

“Does your dad ever make day trips anymore? Remember when he surprised you and took you to that amusement park, you talked about it nonstop for a week,” Betty recalls.

“Yeah, uh, my dad’s busy too. He still has some steady work right now, and he wants to keep it going for as long as he can before winter hits, you know. So, I don’t think anything like that will be happening any time soon. Besides, I have football and music and you guys,” he tells her.

“And your mystery girlfriend,” Betty adds on, nonchalant.

“Betty…” Archie warns.

“I know, I know, I just—the fact that it’s such a secret makes me worry,” she admits.

“Please don’t, I’m fine, really. It’s nice having it for myself only, I guess. You know everything gets put on display in this town, I just—it’s mine and I don’t need everyone talking about it,” he explains.

“I understand,” Betty says as Riverdale High comes in to view. “But, hey,” she pulls on his arm to bring them both to a stop. “Are your parents okay? You guys haven’t gone to Chicago in a while. I haven’t seen your mom—”

“We’re fine. Everyone is just busy. It gets better in the winter, then Dad isn’t working as much and football is over, so we can make those trips,” Archie assures her. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

Betty nods. “Okay.”

“I gotta run. I’ll meet up with you in a bit?” he asks while backing away from her already.

“Yeah,” she agrees and watches him jog off, probably to see the driver of the VW Bug.

She’s looked for the car for over a week now but hasn’t seen it around town or the school parking lot. She hasn’t even told anyone about it, not even Jughead.

Archie is obviously keeping it a secret for multiple reasons, not just because he wants to keep it for himself. She’s worried what it is, and wants to share the development with Veronica and Kevin, but—Archie’s been her best friend since she was five. If he wants the secrecy, she’ll give it to him, even as she’s investigating. He deserves that much.

Betty is staring into her locker when she feels a presence come up beside her.

“Mm, Mini Cooper, you’ve gotta stop teasing me,” Reggie Mantle says with a grin from ear to ear.

Betty does a one-eighty and looks at him with disgust. “Make it through all the freshmen already, Reggie? I thought it would have taken at least another month for them to get the word out and wise up on what you’re really after. I guess this crop is smart, better luck next year,” she says with a pat on the shoulder.

“Nah, I’m not done with ‘em yet, but I always have eyes for you, Mini Coop,” Reggie insists with wagging eyebrows. “Especially with legs like those.”

“You’re a pig, Reginald,” Betty tells with a sweet smile that makes him falter. “And until you grow up, and really understand how to treat a girl, instead of just drooling all over her and inside her mouth, you’re going to continue to simply be a joke to the entire female population,” she says before slamming her locker shut. “I suggest you stick to what you know, and that’s the younger girls who don’t know who you are just yet.”

“You better watch your—”

“You sure you want to finish that sentence, Reggie?” she hears Jughead interrupt from behind her with a comforting hand resting on her hip.

The cocky boy she’s known since grade school decides to keep his mouth shut as he stares at her boyfriend for a long moment, then simply turns and walks away.

Betty’s eyebrows crinkle together—that was entirely too easy.

When she lays eyes on Jughead she understands. He’s wearing his Southside Serpents jacket. He’s never worn it to school before.

She opens her mouth to say something but is cut off with Jughead’s lips on hers. She’s so shocked her powder blue backpack slips off her shoulder before she reaches forward to grab onto something, anything, to steady her. Her fingers settle on the opening of his leather jacket, and she tugs him closer.

He smiles against her mouth before continuing to kiss her, his mouth opening so their tongues can wander.

Betty’s not usually into PDA at school, a detention doesn’t seem worth a quick make out when she can easily do it after, but she can’t seem to care- especially after her less-than-pleasant morning.

Her jaw is in the palms of his hands and it makes her bones tingle—there’s something about being held by him, even in the simplest ways that gets her going. Honestly, anything gets them going these days with their first time approaching.

When Jughead pulls away Betty’s left blinking like an innocent lamb all while knowing her pink-tinted lip balm is completely gone. “Good morning to you too,” she breathes and reaches up to wipe away the light pink smudges at the corners of his lips.

“You know one of the things I hate most in the world?” he replies with a hand now on either side of her on the lockers.

“Reggie Mantle?” she guesses, her own hands slipping underneath the black leather. The whole idea of Jughead being in a gang still gets her nervous, but she has to admit the bad boy look definitely works for him and on her.

“Nah, he’s a blip,” Jughead shrugs and leans forward to brush their noses together as he breathes her in. “I hate waking up at three-thirty AM to a phone call telling me that I have to get out of bed and leave my naked soulmate behind, asleep, and go to a fucking Serpent meeting. I did not sign up for four AM meetings, especially ones that make me get out of bed with you.”

Betty smiles and pushes her nose up against his. “Hm, you’re sweet, and nice segue into telling me about Serpent business. A-plus delivery, Jones,” she applauds.

“I also didn’t have time to go home to shower or change, so you get my stinky body in all its glory,” Jughead adds on.

“I wondered why you were still in your jacket,” she sighs before bending down to pick up her backpack. “And why Reggie didn’t put up a fight. I finally found something I like about it,” she jokes and tugs him along with her down the hall.

“You mean besides how I look in it?” he questions. She doesn’t have to turn to know he’s smirking.

Betty leads him into the still-empty student lounge and plops down on the couch, bringing her boyfriend with her. “Alright, spill Snake Boy,” she urges.

“First, did I tell how you how fucking beautiful you are?”

“Today or in general?”

“Both. Don’t get me wrong, this is good, but I prefer how I left you this morning,” he tells her.

“Yeah, I don’t know how well coming to school in my birthday suit would go over. I’ll ask my mom about the dress code on that one, especially since she was hesitant to let me walk out the door in this,” Betty says with a long sigh.

“How’d that go?” Jughead asks softly and intertwines their hands together.

“Um, well, I told her if she threatened me in any way I would move in with you, basically,” she confesses and it makes his eyebrow rise. “It felt… good to have the power, because she knows that if she ever tries anything I’ll leave. I can go to the trailer and I know your dad won’t fight it, but I—” she stops and starts to pick at Jughead’s fingers. “It shouldn’t have to be like this. I get so mean with her, Jug, and I,” she looks at him with sad eyes, “I feel like I’m turning into her and I hate that.”

“Trust me, Betts, you’re not your mother, I promise,” Jughead assures her with a soft kiss. “You’ve been put between a rock and a hard place. It’s not easy, not at all. You’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you can do. Sometimes you just have to fight fire with fire.”

“I know, I just miss the relationship we used to have I guess - before Polly left. But then that makes me feel like shit because Polly never had a relationship with my mom, not like the one I did. She barely had one with our dad either. She didn’t like working on cars, I did. She refused to go on the awful fishing trips he invited us on, but I felt too bad to say no. I spent time with him at the Register and I—I don’t want to get into all this right now,” Betty shakes her head. “Serpent stuff, tell me about it.”

“I don’t want you to feel bad about the relationship you had, and want, with your parents. Coming from an older sibling, I saw Jellybean have a better relationship with our mom even as mine became non-existent. I still liked seeing her have a good one with our mom, as long as she was, and is, sober,” Jughead tells her.

“Thank you, but Serpent stuff, Forsythe,” Betty orders, returning the subject to him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a cough and sits up. “The Ghoulies straddle the Greendale/Southside border, it’s why we get into so many disputes, that and they are drug dealers.”

Betty nods along, hanging onto every word. They’d decided when he joined that the only way it was really going to work if he told her everything. Betty had no interest in being left in the dark, especially when Jughead could be in some sort of danger. She pays attention to what he tells her so she can better prepare to protect him.

“I guess there is a new drug they’ve made, they call it Jingle Jangle—”

“Jingle—what? Are they elves?” Betty interrupts.

“It’s been nicknamed JJ. Anyway, apparently it—it causes some sort of mania and that leads to dehydration and exhaustion and some kid in Greendale died over the weekend. The kid he took it with is in a coma,” Jughead informs her, making her eyes go wide. “Yeah, so Dad doesn’t know if it was a bad batch, or if the kids took it with something else. Either way, he doesn’t want it hitting the Southside and getting into Riverdale.”

“I don’t either. Holy shit!” Betty mumbles. “I can’t believe someone our age is dead because of it.”

“Dad said since I’m the only Serpent kid in Riverdale High thanks to school districts lines that were re-negotiated later, he wants me to keep my ear to the ground and make sure it doesn’t get to the school population. Which means I’m going to be watching Reggie closely,” he tells her.

“Reggie? Why? Because of earlier, it was just him being—”

“No, I don’t care about earlier, I mean,” Jughead says after rethinking, “he’s an ass and I don’t like him talking to you like he was. I’m going to be watching him because he’s a dealer.”

“What!? Since when? How do you know that?” Betty asks, her eyes wide.

“It’s kind of common knowledge, babe. It’s mainly weed, but if that changes I need to know about it.”

“Wow, I’m learning so much this morning,” Betty sighs while resting back on the couch. “Does Archie know?”

“About Reggie? Yeah. He doesn’t like it, but it’s not like he has any control over him. I think it’s stupid to begin with, especially since the football team gets drug tested, but hopefully, that’ll catch up to him.”

“Does the kid in a coma have a chance?” Betty asks quietly.

“I don’t know. Dad only knew the basics, but I know I want to find out,” Jughead answers.

“I couldn’t imagine if that was Archie or Kevin, God, even Reggie,” she murmurs. “He’s annoying and cocky and needs to be kicked in the balls quite a few times by the girls he womanizes, but—I would never—”

“Betty, I know,” he interrupts and lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Polly used to do dumb stuff with that crowd, with Reggie and Jason and Chuck. What if she took it and—”

“Betty,” he cuts her off once more. “She’s pregnant, she’s not going to take anything. The Serpents are going to do their best to keep it from spilling into the Southside, which means it shouldn’t come close to Riverdale. Don’t worry.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Jones? Know your audience!” Betty insists. “You can’t just tell me not to worry, that makes me worry _more_ , and—” he stops her with a kiss and she gladly accepts the change of subject, so to speak.

“Whew, somebody call the fire department, we need a nose in here!” is an interruption Betty doesn’t enjoy.

They separate to see Veronica standing before them, a drink carrier in her hands, and what Betty’s sure is a handbag that costs as much as the down payment of the Mini Cooper she refuses to call hers.

“G’morning, lovebirds!” the brunette chirps before giving them both their respective drinks. “B, I got you your latte, as always, and Jughead,” she continues on, “a coffee, black. I assumed any additives were beneath you.”

“You assumed correctly,” Jughead says while happily taking the beverage.

“What’s the occasion, V?” Betty asks.

“Homecoming week, silly!” Veronica reminds her. “I got Kevin his usual, and I didn’t know what to get Archie so he got a hot chocolate. I haven’t seen him yet, so,” she nods to the carrier that still holds the cup for the missing red-headed boy.

“Aw, how cute,” Jughead chuckles between sips. “But really, thanks, Veronica. You have no idea how much I needed this today.”

“No worries. Coffee is a must for me every morning. All I did was order four extra drinks,” she says with a wave of her hand. “By the way, your suits have arrived. You must come over before Friday to get a fitting.”

“V, we told you that wasn’t necessary. Jughead has a suit, it was his dad’s, but—”

“Stop right there. Every man should own a nicely fitted suit, tailored to them, it’s a must,” Veronica insists. “Besides, they didn’t cost anything except shipping and dry cleaning. I have a friend who organizes runway shows and if anything is even a teeny bit wrong with a piece it gets thrown out. All he had to do was look out for the measurements I sent him. It’s no big deal, really.”

“I’m starting to believe that sometimes it’s just easier to go along with you than argue, and this is one of those times,” Betty sighs while putting her cup down.

“You’re beginning to know me like the back of your hand,” Veronica says with a cheery smile and wink. “There you are! I got you hot chocolate!” she exclaims not a moment later and Betty turns to see Archie walking into the student lounge.

“And if you’re good she’ll even read you a story before bed,” Jughead tells him and earns a light smack to the stomach from Betty. “What?”

“Boys,” she sighs while giving Veronica a look the girl reciprocates knowingly.

“Thank you for the hot chocolate, Ronnie,” Archie tells her, and she nods with appreciation. “He’s just jealous his drink is black like his soul and mine is full of chocolately goodness,” he adds on.

“At least I have a soul,” Jughead retorts.

“Ha-ha, that joke is almost as old as your beanie,” Archie counters.

“Ooh, shots fired,” Veronica laughs into her coffee cup.

“Babe, a little help here?” Jughead requests pitifully.

Betty shook her head. “Nope, I stopped paying attention to your petty fights after that stupid Star Wars debate that escalated into you two literally dueling with lightsabers.”

“I bet Kevin has naughty dreams about that,” Veronica comments and they all turn to stare at her. “You two dueling swords… if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, God,” Jughead groans as Archie chokes on his hot chocolate.

Before they can all quite recover they are interrupted by a deep voice behind them “Mr. Jones.” They turn to find Principal Weatherbee standing behind them, his hands folded behind his back. “I’d like to see you in my office. Right now.”

Jughead looks at Betty with crinkled eyebrows before putting his coffee down on the table in front of them and standing. “Uh, did I do something wrong, sir?” he asks, completely confused, as is Betty.

“I’d rather discuss it privately, Mr. Jones,” their principal insists and waves an arm forward to Jughead to get moving.

Betty’s about to stand to say something, she’s not exactly sure what, when Jughead nudges her shoulder lightly and she looks up to see him nod towards the entrance to the student lounge. Reggie Mantle is leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed, and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Now Betty knows what she is going to say. “Sir, if this is about what happened this morning you should know that I—”

“This doesn’t concern you, Miss Cooper,” Mr. Weatherbee cuts her off.

“Well, then, what exactly does it concern?” she asks, now standing next to Jughead with her arms crossed. She knows Reggie is up to something, and because of this morning that means it _is_ her business.

“If you must know, Miss Cooper, it’s been brought to my attention that the insignia on Mr. Jones’s back is a cause for concern and has left a number of student’s uneasy.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that number is one, and I can tell you exactly which student,” Jughead mumbles under his breath.

“Mr. Jones, that is enough, I think it’s time we go to my office to discuss this,” Mr. Weatherbee insists.

“To discuss the fact that I’m in a motorcycle club?” Jughead questions.

“Do not play me for a fool. I know exactly what the Serpents are, and I do not want gang paraphernalia in my school,” their principal states. “This whole situation could easily be solved if you’d just take off the jacket and agree to not wear it on school premises.”

“Serpent’s don’t shed their skin,” Jughead replies matter-of-factly.

“It’s a good thing you’re taking biology this year, Mr. Jones, because you’ll find that snakes, in fact, do just that,” Mr. Weatherbee tells him.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jughead says angrily, surprising even Betty, who looks at Archie and Veronica only to find them wide-eyed as well.

“Mr. Jones!” Mr. Weatherbee exclaims, “That is enough, my office, now!”

“Or what? You’ll expel me for wearing a leather jacket, but turn a blind eye to students wearing letterman jackets doing worse than the very club you’re judging?” her boyfriend demands.

“No, you won’t be expelled, but you can be barred from certain extra-curriculars and privileges, like the Blue and Gold, and even the Homecoming dance this weekend,” their angry principal tells them. “I recall you and Miss Cooper buying tickets last week.”

At that Betty takes in a quick breath, one audible enough for Jughead to look at her wearily. She purposely doesn’t look at him, not wanting to weigh in on his decision to do whatever he does next.

Jughead is headstrong, stubborn, and always stands for what he believes in, and he believes in the Serpents, maybe even to a fault. She won’t influence his decision on this, it’s his to make.

Her soulmate’s silence is his answer and the principal nods. “That’s what I thought. Now, Mr. Jones, my office if you please?”

Jughead sighs before following direction, but not without turning back to look at Betty once more.

She makes sure her face is void of emotion until he’s out of sight before glaring at Reggie Mantle.

“What the hell just happened?” Veronica demands once the dust, so to speak, settles.

“You don’t mess with the Reg-Meister, that’s what, V-Lo,” Reggie tells her as he strolls over casually. “And now Mini Cooper here knows that.”

“You little—”

Archie pulls Betty back by the arm and even puts a hand over her mouth to stop her. “Not cool, Reggie,” he says.

“Calm down, Carrot Top,” he insists as the bell rings. “See you losers in class!” he shouts over his shoulder before he makes a hasty exit.

“Okay, I know a lot of drama just happened, and it definitely needs to be talked out, but can I just ask,” Veronica begins while gathering up her things. “What the hell is with that kid and nicknames? V-Lo? Do I look like I’m from the Bronx?”

“Do I look like a car?” Betty counters with an edge.

“Fair enough. C’mon, let’s get to class. After that, the last thing we need is to get higher on Principal Weatherbee’s shit list,” Veronica sighs. The brunette notices her friend’s lackluster response and rubs a hand up and down Betty’s back. “Don’t worry, B, it’ll all work out.”

“You obviously don’t know Jughead. When that kid is challenged he doesn’t know how to back down,” Archie remarks.

“Archie! There is a time to keep those pretty little lips closed and that was it. Don’t make it look worse than it is. He’ll make the right decision, Betty, he knows how important Homecoming is to you,” Veronica insists.

Before she can respond Kevin runs up, obviously on his coffee high. “What the hell happened? The one morning I don’t spend with you guys. I miss all the good stuff! I can’t believe Jughead swore at Principal Weatherbee.”

“What the hell am I going to do with you boys? Do either of you know how to read a situation and look on the bright side or shut the hell up?” Veronica asks herself more than them. “Thank God I am here now for our girl because you two are just not cutting it this morning. B, ignore them, c’mon, the bell is about to ring,” she says before giving the boys a hard stare and leading a deflated Betty towards their first class.

.

“That practice was sub-par, Vixens!” Cheryl calls as they all file into the girl’s locker room. “I suggest some practice on your own before Wednesday, or I’ll make those flabby asses run laps until you would rather get it right or die!”

Betty collapses on the bench and groans before emptying her water bottle.

“B, at this point, I am so sorry I helped you join,” the brunette comments as she merely slides down the lockers to the floor. “This is just pure torture, and I know she enjoys it. She’s crazy, completely psychotic.”

Betty manages to crack a smile but finds that even that miniscule muscular movement hurts. “She’s just one of a kind. Honestly, she’s worse without her twin around, he usually tones down her crazy.”

“The twin who impregnated your sister and dropped out?” Veronica questions between sips of water.

“Word around the school is he is taking an accelerated cyber school program, along with Polly, so they can get their diplomas and keep the scandal minimal, but I don’t know,” Betty sighs before reaching for her locker to check her phone.

There was nothing new from Jughead. He’d texted her halfway through second period. A very to-the-point message: _Took off the jacket. Worked it all out, don’t worry. My dad is pulling me out for the day so I can sleep. I feel like shit. Explain it all later. Love you._

When will he understand that telling her not to worry only makes her worry _more_? It’s infuriating that he somehow thinks a blanket statement of ‘don’t worry’ is enough to just stop her mind from racing. If that was the fix-all, she wouldn’t have anxiety or scars on her palms.

“He still sleeping? Seriously?” Veronica questions from the floor as Betty frowns at her phone.

“Or he knows I’m in practice and knows how Cheryl is. Or he has more Serpent stuff. Or he—he’s probably still sleeping, yeah,” Betty mumbles. “I just don’t want him to be mad he took it off just so we could go to homecoming because of our plans. Archie’s right, Jughead is very headstrong and when he digs his heels in he doesn’t budge.”

“But he did take it off, so he didn’t dig his heels in, right?”

“Or he took it off for me, which could lead to resentment and fighting and—”

“Stop. Jughead makes his own decisions. It was a stupid battle anyways. Both Jughead and Weatherbee had good points, but principal trumps student, so there wasn’t much he could do. It’s not like Jughead has been making it a habit to wear it to school anyways,” Veronica interrupts. “I think the real enemy here is Reggie Mantle.”

“Reggie is mostly bark. I’m not worried about him,” Betty sighs as she holds her change of clothes against her chest. “I’m so over today I’m not even staying to shower. I’m just changing into my sweatpants and walking to Jug’s to find out what the hell went on in that office.”

“Walking? Sweetie, let Smithers drive you, especially after this practice,” Veronica insists, already shucking her shorts to put on her own sweatpants.

Betty can’t wait until her soulmark is revealed so she can just change in the middle of the locker room too. It’s just so much extra work walking all the way to the stalls when she’s already tired and sore. “It’s a ten-minute walk, V. Besides, I think my flabby ass needs it.”

“You take that back right now, Betty Cooper! I love your ass!” Veronica yells after her. “What are you looking at?” the girl asks one of the quieter Vixens as she walks away.

Betty shakes her head, silently thanking the higher powers for bringing Veronica Lodge into her life. She loves her boys, Jughead, Archie, and Kevin, she really does, but she loves Veronica too.

A couple minutes later she’s walking out of Riverdale High, her gym bag slung over her shoulder, her knapsack hanging off her back, and her legs throbbing just a little. She was definitely going to make Jughead give her a massage.

A massage and an orgasm. Maybe two.

Betty nods to herself, a smile overtaking her face at the thought.

She’s taken out of her daydream by a crash and she turns to find Ms. Grundy struggling to carry multiple instruments out of the school and not doing so well at it.

“Ms. Grundy, let me help!” she calls as she jogs up to the music teacher.

“Betty! Hi, thank you!” the timid instructor exclaims, smiling wide at her. “It looks like I bit off more than I could chew here.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m one of those people who would rather break my arms carrying all the groceries in one trip than make multiple,” Betty jokes while grabbing a few of the mid-sized black containers she assumes holds flutes or clarinets or whatever else is small. Betty doesn’t know, she’s not musical, the most she does is sing into her hairbrush.

“Oh, I think everyone is that type of person,” Ms. Grundy agrees. “Thank you so much again, Betty. My car is just over here.”

Betty nods and follows behind.

“So, what’re you doing at school so late?” the music teacher asks, probably to fill the awkward silence.

“Vixen practice ran long, but—well, they always run long. Cheryl’s a bit of a slave driver,” Betty tells her.

“I believe it. I used to tutor her twin Jason in the violin. It was an independent study, but the minimal interactions I had with her were… colorful,” Ms. Grundy remarks. “Anyways, I’m parked just over here.”

Betty nods and then stops short as they approach the vehicle.

A light blue VW Beetle.

The car she saw Archie hop into the other night.Betty gasps to herself, almost dropping the instrument cases in her arms.

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me take those from you!” Ms. Grundy insists, already reaching to take the black boxes.

“I, um, this is your car?” Betty asks in a breathy voice.

The teacher nods while depositing the cases into the trunk. “Yeah. I live just a block away, so I usually walk to school, but I had to get these instruments to—Betty, are you okay, you look pale,” she mentions.

“I’m—I’m fine, I just—I’m late, so I have to go,” Betty tells her and is already backing away.

“Oh, okay, sorry to hold you up! Thanks again!” Ms. Grundy calls after her.

Betty doesn’t know when she started to run, but she did, and she doesn’t care how much it makes her calves burn. She used to run all the time with Polly, even on her own, she likes the alone time and how it can let out her frustration, but it’s taken a backseat lately.

Before she knows it the trailer park is in view and her heart is pounding in her ears.

Archie and Ms. Grundy?

Ms. Grundy and Archie?

Her stomach flips in a bad way. She needs to see Jughead now.

Before she can reach him, she runs into a group of Serpents, quite literally.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she heaves while steadying herself.

“I’ve taken worse hits, no worries,” the tall one says, Sweet Pea, Betty thinks is his name. “Where’s the fire?”

“Fire? What fire?” Betty asks in between gulps of air.

“You were run—never mind, you’re Jughead’s girl, right?”

She nods, holding onto her cramping side. “Yeah, do you know where he is?”

“Sleepin’,” another kid says, this one shorter. “He went to school today, the rest of us cut, so,” he says, and Betty guesses that’s all he has to say when he doesn’t go on.

“He left during second period,” she says quietly.

“That’s good to know, so if he tries to hold it over our heads later. You know where to find him,” Toni tells her while nodding in the direction of his trailer.

“Yeah, thanks,” she murmurs before finishing her way to his place.

FP’s truck is parked in front, but his bike is not, so Betty knows he isn’t home. She climbs the steps and opens the door too roughly before slamming it behind her.

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third!” she just about screams so no matter where in the trailer her is, he’ll hear her.

“Holy fuck,” her boyfriend shoots up from the couch, his hat sliding off his head and his sleepy eyes blinking repeatedly.

“Ms. Grundy!?” she shouts, stomping over to him, dropping her bags as she goes.

“What?”

“Grundy!?” she repeats, slapping him on the shoulder. “That’s who Archie is with? That’s who—oh, my God, it’s rape,” she breathes, her hand over her mouth.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jughead chants. “How did you find out?”

“Her car!” Betty exclaims. “I saw Archie get in a Volkswagen Bug last week, but kept it to myself and today I helped her to her car and it’s—that’s why he’s being so secretive and weird. It’s because it’s her, his teacher, our teacher, she’s like, almost thirty. He’s only fifteen! Its statutory rape! She’s—she’s raping him!”

“Okay, wait,” Jughead repeats and stands before her. “I don’t think Archie sees it that way—”

“I don’t care how Archie sees it!” Betty cuts him off, still ranting. “That’s what the law says. The law sees it that way. It _is_ that way. He’s not eighteen, he’s fifteen, and even if you include the whole ‘four-year rule’ thing she is WAY older than nineteen, okay?” she goes on without taking a breath. “This is wrong! It’s so wrong, it’s—it’s why you two got into the fight. You know it’s wrong. You know it’s wrong and you let it happen?”

“Hey, I tried!” Jughead defends himself. “I was out walking Hot Dog and saw Archie leaving her house early in the morning, back during my initiation. I freaked out on him, I told him all the stuff you’re telling me, and all he did was cut me out. He—he thinks he’s in love with her, Betts. He lost his virginity to her, he’s in deep.”

“Just because he thinks he’s in love with her doesn’t make it okay. What if this was Jellybean, huh? What if Jellybean was screwing around with her gym teacher when she was fifteen and he was thirty, what the hell would you do?”

“Don’t do that, that’s not fair,” Jughead insists, and Betty thinks if smoke could come out of his ears it would be.

“Yes, it is. Our best friend is being raped by a teacher! A teacher, Jughead! Imagine how many guys she’s done this to! She just started at Riverdale High last year. It isn’t her first teaching job. I interviewed her for the Blue and Gold, she said she’s worked at quote ‘a couple different schools’ but could never find the right fit. More like she couldn’t find the right boy-toy. This is—this is disgusting, Jug.”

“I know! I know, Betty, and I tried to handle it. It didn’t do anything. Archie is going to do what he wants to do—”

“We need to tell the police, Jug. We need to go to Kevin’s and—”

“Betty, do you really want to be the one to turn her in, to out her and Archie to the town? You think your sister is a scandal, wait until your parents get wind of this one. Everyone will know and Archie will be humiliated in front of everyone. Do you really want to do that to him?”

Betty  collapses down on the couch and runs her hands over her face. “No, but we can’t let this keep happening either, Jug. I can’t believe you’ve known for months and just…” she trails off with a shake of her head.

“I’ve tried, Betty, I’m telling you. We had a massive fight about it. We stopped talking over it. You saw how we were. I threatened to tell and he threatened to tell you about the Serpents. Then you were so upset over him and I fighting that I made up with him even though I still knew it was wrong. I’ve been—I _have_ been trying to do something, Betty. I point out that he and Grundy don’t have a future all the time. He knows that it’s weird that she’s twenty-six and he’s fifteen and that she was in third grade when we were born. I’ve told him that he can’t have a normal relationship because it is wrong even if it feels right to him. I’m trying, Betts. But having him just shut me out, that wasn’t helping the situation any,” Jughead tells her, willing her to understand.

“How did it happen? How did it start?” she asks quietly.

“He was walking home from a construction job Fred was working late on. It was hot, she offered him a ride, they started talking about music and one thing led to another,” Jughead fills her in.

“What, just like that? The first day? The first time they—ew,” she mumbles. “I didn’t know Archie was so easy.”

“Really? Because I could’ve told you that one,” Jughead comments, then holds his hands up in surrender after she glares.

“We have to do something about this, Jug, something more than telling him it’s weird and wrong. He needs to see just how wrong, that it’s rape, and that she’s using him because he’s a vulnerable teenage boy with mommy issues since his mom doesn’t live at him anymore and his parents are going through a rough patch. I mean, they haven’t made a trip to Chicago in a long time, I haven’t seen Mary around in forever. We have to work together on this,” Betty tells him.

“I’m in, Betty, I am, and—I don’t want you to be mad I didn’t tell you. I have been trying. I know you could have done better than I did, but—”

“Stop,” Betty urges and grabs his hand. “You weren’t in an easy spot. Didn’t you tell me this morning that we have to make tough decisions when we are inbetween a rock and a hard place? We just—we do better together, okay? So that is how we are going to handle this.”

“Like I said, I’m in,” Jughead repeats.

“And I’m going to look into Ms. Grundy. There has to be a teenage skeleton in her closet, and I’m going to find it,” Betty states.

“You mean metaphorically, right? You don’t think she literally murdered a teenage boy and—yeah, I’ll stop talking now,” he mumbles upon another glare.

“And you! What happened to you this morning?” she demands.

Jughead falls back to the couch. “Ugh, I had to sit there for half an hour as Weatherbee went on and on about my attitude and lack of respect and blah, blah, blah, then he called my dad, which—okay, my dad thinks I was an idiot for not just taking it off. But he also thinks Weatherbee should have just made sure I took off the jacket and cut me loose, instead of the huge deal he made of it. On top of that, my dad was pissed he had to leave work over it.He was able to go back, so that’s fine. At the end of Weatherbee’s rant I just asked my dad to pull me out so I could come home and get some sleep. I already didn’t want to be there, I only went because I wanted to see you, but I had a headache and was pissed off and so fucking tired.”

“So… you’re really okay that you took off the jacket? You’re not mad or anything?”

“I mean, I think it’s shitty, but I gotta pick my battles. Maybe if I wasn’t the only Serpent in school, but I am so…” he stops and sighs. “I just didn’t want you to think I would do anything to jeopardize Homecoming. That’s why I texted you, I didn’t want you worrying about it all day.”

“I love you, Jughead Jones, but if you tell me not to worry one more time I am poking you in the eye.” Betty glowers at him. “Those aren’t the magical words that make it all better. It just makes me worry more. I just—it’s infuriating when you tell me to stop worrying like there is just some switch I can flip.”

“I’m—Betty, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you. I didn’t think of it as condescending or anything—”

“No, I know, I know, Jug,” Betty assures him. “The phrase just irks me, that’s all.”

“Noted,” Jughead says with a nod. “But yes, I’m all right with the jacket stuff. You’re way more important than that piece of leather.”

“I know that, and I don’t need you to say it,” Betty admits while cuddling into his side, “but it’s still nice to hear.”

“You have a lot of homework?” he asks with his lips against her forehead.

“A bit. I have yours too.”

“Of course you do,” Jughead chuckles. “Wanna hang out? Order in and do our homework?”

“Sure, but instead of doing my homework, can I use your laptop to research Ms. Grundy and laws about having sex with minors? I’d like to figure out exactly how much jail time this bitch will get.”

“Uh, sure. Have you ever thought about a career in law enforcement?” he questions, with a smirk.

“No, why? You think I’d be good at it?”

“Baby, I don’t think you’d ever be bad at anything you want to do.”

“Aw, you’re sweet. Now go get your laptop,” Betty says and pushes on his chest.

“You definitely play good cop, bad cop well,” he mutters on his way towards his bedroom.

“I heard that!”

“I know!”

A couple hours later, Betty is leaning into Jughead’s side as they approach her house.

“I had a nice time tonight, despite the shocker I found out, and even though it was not what I originally had planned,” Betty says as their legs slow.

“What did you originally have planned?” Jughead asks, stopping in front of the steps leading up to her house.

“A shower, a massage, an orgasm, not in that order, but I wouldn’t have been upset if it had been,” she answers, a cheeky smile on her face.

“Wha—wha—wait,” Jughead says with a hand waving. “That was your plan and instead we ate Chinese and did our homework? I want a redo!”

“Sorry, too late. I am dead tired. I plan on taking a shower and passing out,” she sighs.

“Well, I—oh fuck,” Jughead stops.

“You know, you’re swearing a lot lately. I’m not really opposed, you know the jacket works for me, so the attitude comes with it, but—”

“Hey, guys!” Archie appears behind her, causing her to jump.

“Hey, Arch,” Jughead greets, but his smile is too wide and his eyes are too big.

“Uh, is everything alright? What happened with Weatherbee?” he asks.

“Nothing, he just read me the riot act. I asked my dad to bring me home so I could sleep. I was over the day after that opening act,” Jughead comments.

“I don’t blame you. You missed Reggie’s curtain call,” Archie tells him. “I think? I’m not really good at stage references.”

“Reggie? What did Reggie do?” Jughead demands, looking down at Betty, who was looking at her feet.

“Just said he taught Betty a lesson by telling Weatherbee about you,” Archie fills him in.

“What? Betts, why didn’t you tell me?” Jughead asks of Betty, who just shrugs.

She can’t look at Archie, she’s too disappointed. The boy she grew up with is not the boy she thought he was. She still can’t believe that he thinks what he’s doing is okay. After some research she found that Archie is just Grundy’s pawn, it’s not his fault, not at all, but—she’s still struggling with the news.

“Betty, are you mad at me?” Archie asks her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“No, I have to go home, my parents will—”

“Hey, Betty, wait,” Archie stops her. “What’s going on?”

Jughead tries to stop this before it starts, “Archie, I wouldn’t—”

“I know about Grundy,” Betty cuts Jughead off.

“Wha—Jug!?” Archie exclaims.

“I didn’t say anything. She—”

“Jughead didn’t tell me. I found out on my own. How could you go along with this, Archie? Can’t you see that she’s using you?” Betty asks incredulously.

“That’s Jughead talking! You guys don’t understand—”

“No! You don’t understand!” Betty interrupts. “She’s _eleven_ years older than you, Archie, more than a decade! She’s a teacher, a person who has influence over you. She should be protecting you not taking advantage of you. What she is doing to you is wrong, and it’s not fair.”

“I love her!” Archie insists. “She’s the only one who has been there for me. She listens to me, she cares about what I have to say, she helps me with my music, she—”

“She’s the only one who has been there for you?” Betty is livid. “Excuse me? Who was there for you when you broke your arm when we were kids? Who was there for you when Vegas was still a puppy and he ran away?  Who looked for him with you for hours in the rain? Who is there for you every single football game? Every wrestling match? Who was there for you when your mom decided to move to Chicago? Who worries about you all the time? Me! Me and Jughead and Kevin and now Veronica. How many times have I listened to your songs and given you feedback? If you think she has been the only one here for you, then you’re even more messed up than I thought.”

“You don’t understand,” Archie argues. “My entire life I’ve felt like the third wheel. I know you guys never meant to make me feel that way, but I was always on the sidelines of the Betty and Jughead show. I watched for years as you tried to be together, fought to be together, finally got together, and figured out how to be together. I know you’ve always tried to be there for me, but whatever you two were going through was always more important than what I had going on.”

“Arch—”

“No, Jug. I finally have something for me and I’m not letting either of you take it from me or make me feel bad about it. If you have a problem with her, then you have a problem with me,” Archie states before backing up with a shake of his head and then jogging up to his house.

“Well, that went well,” Jughead grumbles from next to her.

“Shut up, Jug,” Betty says while watching Archie slam his front door shut and disappear from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I know it's a sensitive topic, I tried to have it seen from both sides, although, of course, I side with Betty. I really want to handle this better than the show.  
> Let me know how I did?
> 
> Wait for the aesthetic, Jandy should post soon!


	13. A Heart That's Harder Than Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, guys! Hope you like! Let me know your thoughts and comments!  
> I've been getting so many messages on Tumblr of support from you all and I am very, very grateful. You have no idea how much it helps me. 
> 
> As always, thanks to Jandy for helping/dealing with me, and even helping remotely from her vacation, editing early in case I finished while she was gone (I did) and making the aesthetic hella early as well. You're a gem!
> 
> More notes at the end!

"In almost all cases marking comes as a surprise. It is not something that can be planned, but some try to if possible. As in, since it is the female that has to initiate contact in heterosexual cases, they will attempt to hold off to solidify a bond beforehand to help the odds. However, as far as scientists know knowing each other beforehand, even creating a bond, doesn't matter with marks. The marks choose that special person for us, not the other way around."

From _Marking in Relationships_ , 2018

*

“Hi! Is Jughead Jones here?”

The very tall, somewhat burly, and leather-clad man looks at her with one eyebrow in the air.

“Is there a cover or something? Do I need to show you ID?” Betty asks, bouncing on her heels as she tries to work off nervous energy. “If so, that sucks because I don’t have any.”

“Betty?” she hears and turns to find Toni approaching with a confused look on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Jughead said he’d be here. He doesn’t know I’m coming, obviously. What are you doing here?” she questions in response, then rolls her eyes at herself. “You’re a Serpent, this is normal for you, I’m the irregularity.” Toni opens her mouth, but Betty continues. “Is there a trick to getting in here? I didn’t think it was so strict, but I don’t have an ID or money or a leather jacket, so I know I’m probably—"

“You are talking very fast, and too much,” Toni cuts in. “Don’t worry, Brick, she’s with me,” she says and ushers Betty in.

“Is his real name Brick, or is that a nickname? Do you all have nicknames? Should I get a nickname? I don’t know what it would be. Betty is a nickname in itself,” she blubbers on as Toni leads her through bar stools and pool tables.

“Toni is a nickname in the same way Betty is one for you,” Toni tells her upon their approach to the younger ragtag group of Serpents in the back of the Whyte Wyrm. “Little Jones, I found something that belongs to you.”

Jughead turns with a pool stick in hand to find his girlfriend and the pink-haired Serpent. “Betty? What are you doing here?”

“I broke into her car,” is all Betty says before finishing her way to him. “Not Toni’s car, but you know whose  car,” she explains.

“What!?”

“I don’t even know if Toni has a car, do you?” she continues, looking towards Toni for confirmation, but the girl is just looking at her, half in shock, half amusement.

“Betty, you broke into her car?” Jughead keeps her focused.

“What? It’s not hard, I have the tool and everything,” Betty informs him, opening her wet rain jacket to reveal the flat bar her father keeps in the back of the garage.

Jughead takes the tool from her and hands it off to Sweet Pea, who looks impressed, then it disappears behind him. “Betty, what the hell were you thinking?” he asks incredulously while leading her away from the group.

“I’m thinking it’s been three days and Archie won’t talk to me and I couldn’t sit by and do nothing anymore,” Betty tells him. “So, I was at Pop’s after getting my nails done with Veronica because I didn’t want to go home, and I had way too many espressos—”

“You think?”

Betty ignores his comment, “—and I got the idea. We’ve gotten as far as we can with what we know. We need to do something drastic to get more information. So, I went home and got what I needed. Her car was parked right outside her house, she doesn’t even have a garage.”

“Betty, you’re the worst criminal ever. Did you at least wear gloves? Did anyone see you?”

“Yes, I wore gloves, and it’s Riverdale, half the population is over 60 and they are in bed by seven, so no, I don’t think anyone saw me,” she answers, and finally takes a breath. “Will you let me show you what I found now?”

“Don’t tell me you stole anything, please, baby,” he murmurs, almost as if he’s pleading with her past-self.

“No, I didn’t steal anything, that would be stupid, but I found an ID. Geraldine Grundy isn’t her real name. It’s Jennifer Gibson,” she informs him. “Here, I took a picture of it,” she pulls out her phone to show him. “And there was a gun!”

Jughead’s eyes widen. “A—what?”

“A pistol, I think, the one with the barrel you put individual bullets in,” she tells him. “It was in a lockbox on the floor of her backseat. I broke into that too.”

Jughead squeezes the bridge of his nose while exhaling loudly. “Betty, we agreed to do this together, and—”

“And you would have talked me out of it. I can’t just stand by while she’s hurting our friend. I refuse to. Think of it as some initiative. Now we know why there is nothing on her before last year. She changed her name, probably to hide her predatory past. Now we can tell Archie what we know—”

“What? Tell him this information that we got because you broke into her car, and then a lockbox inside of that? You think he isn’t going to be pissed about that?”

Betty frowns and wraps arms around herself, not realizing she’s shivering until then. She ran from Grundy’s house to the Wyrm in the rain. “I just want him to talk to me again.”

“He will, I promise, but you going full Nancy Drew isn’t going to do anything besides get us into trouble. Jesus! I’m supposed to be the bad influence here,” he mumbles as he shucks off his jacket. “Here. Take yours off and put this on, you’re freezing.”

Betty does as she’s told and tries to burrow into its warmth. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you, but going off like that, breaking to her car… Betty, you didn’t tell me because you knew it was wrong,” he points out. “I don’t want you to get into trouble on top of everything else you’re going through with your parents and Archie, especially with Homecoming coming up.”

“I know, I know, I was running on caffeine and adrenaline,” she mutters. “But we need to look into Jennifer Gibson and find out why the hell she has a gun.”

Jughead nods, wrapping an arm around her before leading her back to his group of friends. “We will. Can you guys keep an eye on her while I go look for my dad?”

“Keep an eye on me, I don’t need—”

“Betty, if tonight proves anything—”

“I broke into one car! You’re the one who gave me the Nancy Drew Handbook,” she reminds him.

“We were nine. I didn’t think it would lead you to thievery,” he responds blithely.

“I didn’t steal anything. Geez, calm down, Forsythe,” she huffs and the young Serpents around her all burst out laughing.

Jughead gives her a long, hard stare before shaking his head. “Hey, she’s the only one who gets to call me that, all right?” he states firmly. “Just keep an eye on her before she ends up in a bar brawl please?”

“I’ll be fine, Jug, really,” she insists.

But that’s not enough for Jughead, who waits for a response from his friends. “We got it, Jug,” Toni assures him, and it’s only then that he leaves.

“Break into one car and he turns all high and mighty on me,” Betty continues to grumble. “It’s not like a hotwired it, you know?’ she says to the Serpents surrounding her.

“Do you know how to hotwire a car?” Sweet Pea asks after taking a shot in his pool game.

“Yeah, but it was a Bug, not the type of car worth hotwiring. You gotta have standards,” she tells him. “Can I have my tool back? My dad will notice if it’s missing. My sister locks—well, my sister used to lock the keys in the car all the time.”

“I don’t know if Jughead trusts you with it,” Sweet Pea responds, but Toni smacks him in the stomach.

“Give it to her, Pea, you don’t know how to break into a car unless you use a bat,” Toni says flatly while holding her hand out for the tool.

“Yeah, all the more season for me to keep it,” Sweet Pea jokes, but then Toni takes the bar from his hands to give back to Betty.

“There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Betty murmurs and takes in her surroundings now that the adrenaline is wearing off. “What’s this?” she asks, walking up to a wall in the back of the room covered in mug shots.

“Oh, the wall of infamy,” Toni answers. “Inside joke. Basically, anyone who has been arrested gets a copy of their mugshot and we put it on the wall. It’s not encouraged, obviously, but it happens, as you can see.”

Betty nods while scanning the faces and names. FP’s is up there from a couple years ago when he was arrested for showing up at Billy’s condo to try to take Jellybean home while drunk. She spots him again, but he’s much younger in this one and looks like a cruder Jughead, very angry, a black eye and fat lip adorning his face.

It makes her smile knowing FP is so different now. He’s had a stable job for months, is there for Jughead every day, has learned to text for Jellybean, but still manages to talk to her every other day, if not more on the phone. When Gladys and FP were together it was nothing but the blame game. She drank because he did, he drank because he was never good enough for her, and it went on and on. With no one to point the finger at but themselves, they’ve become better people, better parents.

Her eyes shift to the one next to it and gasps. Without thinking she grabs the nearest barstool and begins to climb.

“Betty, what the hell are you doing?” Toni asks, grabbing onto her legs as she shakes on the chair. “I thought Jughead was exaggerating when he said you needed to be watched.”

Betty gets on her tip-toes to reach the picture next to FP’s much younger one and yanks it down off the wall, not caring that she tore the drywall a little.

“Okay, you got it, will you get down before you break your neck?” Toni pleads and Betty wordlessly puts her weight on Toni’s shoulders to get down carefully. “What the hell was that? _Who_ the hell is that?”

“My dad is finishing up something and then he’ll drive us home,” Jughead announces as he walks up behind them. “Betty are you—holy shit! Is that your mom?”

“Where’s your dad?” Betty demands, but as the words leave her mouth she’s already walking away.

“Betty, he’s—” Jughead tries to keep up with her, but isn’t as small as her, doesn’t fit through the small spaces between drunk men.

She finds him across the bar slinging his jacket over his shoulders as he speaks to a blonde woman in front of him. “What the hell is this?” she demands as she shoves the frame in FP’s face.

“What the—Betty,” FP starts before rubbing his already tired eyes.

“My mom was a Serpent?” she asks, his hands shaking. “You told me she grew up on the Southside, did you just forget to mention this?”

“Betty!” Jughead comes up behind her and settles his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to silently calm her down.

“Did you know?” she questions, turning on her boyfriend too.

“You’re seriously asking me that?” he counters, and she shakes her head. Jughead has been completely honest with her since their talk at the drive-in.

“No, Jug didn’t know,” FP speaks up. “Not unless he saw that shot up there and never said anything about it to me.”

“I didn’t,” Jughead insists, leaning his head over the picture. “She looks so different. I’ve only ever seen her perfectly put together. Here, she looks… raw, more human than I’ve ever seen her.”

Betty stares at the picture for a long minute. “What happened? She was a Serpent?” she continues her interrogation of FP.

“What happened is most kids who grow up on the Southside end up in the Serpents, or are associated with them one way or another. It’s the only way to make it around here. You’re either a brain, like Jug, and have a way out, or you join in to make it through. Your mom is smart as a whip, but brains can go both ways. Like any other teenager your mom had a rebellious phase, this,” he says while tapping on the glass, “was it. But Serpents don’t shed their skin, she’s still one of us even if she’s rejected us now. What I told you is true—once she marked with your dad she left for greener pastures, and we don’t blame her.”

“But—but she hates the Serpents. You must know what she puts in the Register, she—”

“Is a journalist. She doesn’t just go after us, she slanders the Ghoulies and everything in this town. We’re not happy about it, but we’re not called a gang for nothing, sweetheart,” FP tells her. “And this incident?” he goes on, tapping on the glass again. “Was my fault. I took the fall, nothing went on her record, and it was her wake-up call to change. I only wish mine came then, but better late than never, huh?” he asks while nodding at Jughead.

“It’s just like there is this whole side of her that I never knew,” Betty whispers, her eyes never leaving the picture. “Did she think I’d think less of her? Because honestly, I don’t give a shit she grew up on the Southside or was a Serpent. What she’s doing now, kicking my sister out, telling her to get rid of her baby, that’s what makes me think less of her.”

“We all have skeletons, sweetheart. This might be little to you, but to her, this is huge,” FP murmurs. “You didn’t tell her I told you about where she grew up?”

Betty shakes her head. “No, I was—I am saving it for later with how we fight. I figured I’d need the ammo eventually.”

“You really are like your mother,” FP says with a grin. “Now, you ready to go home? It’s getting late and you kids have school tomorrow.”

She nods and holds out the photo frame for him to take back.

“Nah, you keep it. Proof,” FP jokes, she thinks, but nods for them to get going.

“You alright?” Jughead murmurs while wrapping an arm around her as they trail behind his father.

“I’m just so tired of all the secrets. Ours, my mom’s, Archie’s. It’s too much,” she admits quietly.

“One secret at a time, huh? Ours sees light this weekend, we’re working on Archie’s, and we’ll start on your mom’s now too, okay?” he says while opening the passenger side of the truck for her.

Betty nods and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you more, now get in the truck. I’m trying to be manly here, but you have my jacket and I’m fucking freezing.”

*

Betty keeps the smile plastered on her face, but gives Veronica a look of ‘I’m dying here’ as they hold their arms up. Their blue and gold pompoms are high in the air, creating a tunnel for the Riverdale Bulldogs to get back on the field as halftime ends.

“This is some type of torture. How is it the first frost when it’s early October? And we don’t have pants. Good thing our colors are blue because pretty soon that’s what color my legs will be,” Veronica complains as their tunnel falls and the girls flank Cheryl, the redhead front and center as always.

“Welcome to upstate New York,” Betty sighs, the smile never leaving her face—one of Cheryl’s rules—and glares at the puffs of hot air leaving her lungs. She keeps her legs moving to try and create heat.

“One of the better things about an all-girls school, no football games,” Veronica says. “I was on the dance squad, but we did this stuff indoors.”

It’s only then that Betty notices Archie is coming out of the boy’s locker room late, and with Coach Clayton, who is patting him on the back. Archie took over Jason’s position as quarterback when he didn’t come back to school this year. It’s kept him busy, and nervous, because of the pressure. Riverdale takes sports too seriously.

“Cover for me, will you?” she asks of Veronica, but is already gone before her friend can answer.

“Archie!” Betty calls as she jogs over.

Archie turns and waits. “Nice lipstick,” he greets with a grin, but soon it falters and disappears entirely.

Betty rolls her lips together at the reminder of the bright blue smeared across them. “Cheryl’s idea. Homecoming is all about school spirit, right?”

“We are the town with pep!” he agrees, his voice fake and too-high, making her chuckle at the absurdity of their little town.

“Look, I—I’m not going to lie to you and say I’m sorry for how I feel about your… situation,” she begins, “but I could have handled it better. Attacking you like that isn’t the best way to have a conversation,” Betty says quietly.

“And I didn’t mean what I said. I know you and Jug have been there for me, but—you are there for each other more,” he says, then shakes his head. “No, I’m not saying this right, I mean… it’s different, being together versus being friends. You can’t blame me for wanting something like what you and Jug have after watching you all my life.”

Betty nods and Archie’s face softens. “This is a big conversation; do you think we can set aside our differences for the weekend? We’re all going to homecoming together, and its Jug’s birthday, and, uhm, everything,” she coughs with red cheeks but hopefully, Archie  thinks it’s due to the cold.

Their close friends know what is planned for the weekend. Betty definitely didn’t talk to Archie about it, but he’s Jughead’s best friend too—Jughead has every right to talk to his best friend about stuff. And Archie respects the boundary between teasing and talking to Betty about it. Besides, Veronica and Kevin both know too, and a part of her thinks they are more excited than she is. 

“We can’t ruin homecoming for Kevin, right?” Archie concedes and Betty laughs, this time the smile that comes with it is genuine. He’s still her best friend if he’s making a huge mistake, even if he’s blinded to the truth.

Betty nods. “He’d never forgive us if we did.” She’ll get him to see the light, she has to.

“Betty!” she hears and turns to find Cheryl with hands on her hips and daggers in her eyes.

“Gotta go, but so do you. C’mon, kick Centerville’s asses!” she encourages and pats him on the arm with a pompom before running back towards the squad.

“You think you can grace us with your presence long enough for a cheer?” the HBIC asks.

“Anything for you, Cheryl,” Betty responds cheekily and bites her cheek as Veronica snorts. 

“I’ll remember that, Cooper,” Cheryl says so sweetly Betty knows it’s a threat, but ignores it.

Cheryl Blossom is not going to ruin her weekend.

When their obligatory beginning of second-half Go-Bulldogs-Go! is done they resume their positions on the sideline, their pompoms constantly being clapped together, Cheryl’s orders. It is supposed to keep the energy up, but for Betty it just keeps the blood flowing.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you think I can get a comment for the student paper?” she hears and turns just enough to see her boyfriend in her peripheral vision coming out of the shadows. He gets as close as he can with a waist-high chain-link fence between them. “My editor is really tough, I don’t want to disappoint her.”

Betty bites her lip to keep from giggling. “Yes, actually. Cheerleaders need pants because I’m so cold I can’t feel my extremities.”

“I’m sorry, baby. After the game I’ll get you warmed up,” he promises, and she smiles as she thinks of all the possibilities. “I saw you talking with Archie.”

“I did the right thing,” Betty tells him, but it’s awkward since she has to face the football field and he’s behind her. “Or something like that.”

“How’d that go, Poirot?”

“Well, we’re talking again, and hopefully we can ask him some real questions about Jennifer Gibson next week,” Betty says and then jumps up and down with the rest of the girls when the boys make a run for the touchdown, but Chuck gets tackled before he makes it there.

“You know, you’ve been a cheerleader for more than six weeks now, and I have yet to be misogynistic and ask for a lap dance,” Jughead points out as she backs up to be even closer to her soulmate.

“Hm, baby, I don’t think cheerleader correlates to lap dance,” she teases.

“Yeah, well, it’s my fantasy so I get to call it what I want,” he says indignantly.

“Are you saying you should be rewarded?”

“For being a very good boy, of course,” he answers easily.

Betty turns to look at him with a sultry look in her eye, or the best she can pull off, at least. “Let’s enjoy the weekend, then we’ll start going through our fantasies, hm?”

Jughead grins from ear to ear. “Ours, huh? What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s just say your leather jacket is involved,” Betty whispers while tugging him impossibly closer, all while still holding onto her pompoms. “And a Serpent of a different kind.”

Jughead leans forward to kiss her, but remembers the blue lipstick, so he simply brushes their noses together. “Can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Betty agrees and presses a long, hard kiss on his cheek, leaving a perfect lip stain. “Pop’s after?”

“Always. Keep the outfit, lose the lipstick,” he advises as they both back away. “I’ll keep you warm.”

She winks and returns to her spot next to Veronica. “I’m getting so antsy for the weekend,” Betty mentions. “Fuck the weekend, I’m ready for tomorrow night.”

“Isn’t that the plan? To fuck for the entire weekend?”

“You’ve been around the boys too long,” Betty says, but still smiles. “But yes, that is the plan.”

“You nervous?” Veronica asks.

“No, more excited. I mean, it’s Jughead, he’s my soulmate,” she whispers the last part. “It should be easy, you know? We’ve gone ten years, now I’m itching for the next twenty-four hours to be over.”

Veronica laughs. “Yeah, I don’t think at nine you were thinking of riding Jughead Jones into oblivion. Now you have a deadline, it’s real, it’s happening.” Her smile is genuine. “I’m excited for you. Of course, I want to hear all about it. I can wait until Monday, but only because I don’t think you’ll come up for air ‘til then.”

“Thanks, I think? Are you excited to spend the weekend all alone with Kevin since I’ll be otherwise indisposed?” Betty wonders aloud.

“Oh, yes, it will be so exciting having an Audrey Hepburn marathon while eating way too much and doing makeovers. He thinks he wants a new look, I said I’d help,” Veronica answers.

“Even though I’ll be, um, busy, I want pictures of these looks,” Betty insists.

“Oh, you’ll get full on montages,” Veronica assures her. 

The game drags on, as time seems to right now for Betty. The only truly fun part is when Archie throws what looks like a billion yard pass to Chuck in the end zone, sealing their victory, and making the crowd go wild.

It’s just pleasantries after that—Riverdale is two touchdowns ahead with only a minute left. Centerville doesn’t have a chance, but they never do. Riverdale hasn’t lost their homecoming game in over fifty years. Still, it puts a lot of pressure on the boys, Archie especially.

“What the hell is that?” she hears Veronica say when the clock hits zero and she turns to her new best friend with questioning eyes.

The boys are all celebrating their win, the crowd cheering, leaving the cheerleaders redundant. Even Cheryl is joining in on the victory high.

“What the hell is what?” she asks, more like yells, over the crowd.

“That,” Veronica says with a nod towards the side of the stands.

Betty finds Jughead there, his usual spot, but he’s not alone. There’s a girl with him. A small, quiet girl with chestnut brown hair and big, thick glasses adorning her face as they both huddle over a large, expensive-looking camera.

“Oh, that’s Mildred Mabel, she’s in Jug’s photography class,” Betty informs her. “She’s nice. What about it?”

“What about—Betty! She’s flirting with him! And he’s not stopping it,” Veronica points out.

Betty tilts her head and notices how Mildred is leaning in quite close and even puts a hand on Jug’s forearm. “That’s not—V, it’s Jughead. The only girl he’s ever flirted with is me, he probably doesn’t even realize it.”

“You’re probably right, but—that’s your man. Not everyone knows just how much yet, but it’s universally known. What she’s doing, that’s shitty,” Veronica insists.

“We’re talking about Mildred Mabel here, Veronica, and Jughead’s my soulmate. Why make a big deal out of it?” Betty asks.

“Hm, you’re a bigger woman than I,” Veronica says. “I would be marking my territory all over him.”

“We’re not dogs, he’s not a fire hydrant,” Betty tells her while rolling her eyes. She keeps her irises focused on her soulmate despite her words. She knows she has nothing to worry about, not at all, but—anger and jealousy flare in the pit of her stomach all the same. “But, I should probably go say hi, right?”

“That’s my girl, let’s go,” Veronica agrees and tugs her along by the elbow. “Happy Homecoming!” she exclaims upon approach.

Jughead’s entire face lights up when he sees Betty, how close she is.

“Juggie, you didn’t wipe off my lipstick?” she asks in a giggle while wrapping arms around his neck.

“No way, this is the only way I show school spirit,” he counters and gives her a ghost of a kiss. “I’m pretty sure Archie got the strength to throw that pass because of how great your high kick is,” he adds on, a shit-eating grin on his face because he knows he’s being an ass.

“You are such a marshmallow,” Veronica sighs and turns to the girl beside Jughead. “Hi, I’m Veronica Lodge, resident new girl here at our fair Riverdale High,” she introduces herself.

“This is Milly, she’s in my photography class. She was just showing me some shots she took of the game from the top of the stands, they are really good,” Jughead seems to only be speaking to Betty at the end.

“That’s great, you ever think of turning over a few to the Blue and Gold? We’d give you credit, of course,” Betty offers, feeling bad that the mousy girl has turned bright crimson since they came over and folded in on herself.

“No, I—I only do it for fun,” Milly finally speaks up.

“Well, if you’re ever interested, just let me know. Jug obviously likes your work, that’s all the vetting I need,” Betty insists.

“Thanks, I’ll consider it,” Milly says, her cheeks dulling to pink. “Um, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Jug?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he assures her with a smile before she disappears, a quality Jughead has as well—fading into the shadows. “That was nice of you, babe,” he mentions once she’s gone.

“What? I’m not nice?” Betty questions with raised eyebrows.

“Not about the Blue and Gold,” he replies too easily, and she pops a hip now to show she means business. “You just take it very seriously, which I enjoy,” he continues on, “it’s like a naughty teacher type deal.”

“And with that, I’m going to go gather the other two of this pentagon we call a friendship,” Veronica announces, and Betty turns as red as Mildred while burying her face in his shirt.

“Now that she’s gone,” Jughead instantly begins.

“Oh, was that your plan all along?” Betty asks in a low whisper against his neck.

“Yep, anyways, my dad called,” he tells her. “He just found out about this Serpent business out of town, he wouldn’t tell me what, and he wants to know my thoughts.”

“On something he wouldn’t tell you about?” she asks with eyebrows crinkled.

“On missing my birthday if he goes,” Jughead fills in and she nods.

“And you said…?”

“I told him to go if he feels he needs to. He knows how I feel about my birthday,” he murmurs quietly.

Betty rests her forehead on his. “It’s okay if you want him around for it this year, things are different with you guys. He’s practically sober, he sleeps at home every night, and you’re not so worried about money anymore. You don’t have to fake that happiness, you can just be happy, Juggie.”

“I know—and I am so proud of my dad, I really am,” Jughead assures her. “But, I’d rather do what I usually do, spend it with you. That’s our tradition, that’s what I want to do.”

“Okay, then we will,” Betty states.

“But I also kind of lied because,” Jughead goes on and takes in a deep breath, a smile forming on his lips as he does, “if my dad’s not home then that means we have the trailer to ourselves until he comes home Sunday afternoon.”

“It’s almost like a birthday gift to you, giving us the weekend alone,” Betty murmurs and bops their noses together. “But it’s up to you, Juggie. If you want your dad home we’ll go with the original plan of spending the night at your place tomorrow night, then trying to be extra quiet at mine on Saturday.”

“I want to lock ourselves in the trailer for the weekend,” Jughead tells her without missing a beat. “I told him to go and that when he came home on Sunday we’d do something, just the three of us.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Betty assures him. “But this year you’ll just be unwrapping me,” she adds on in a sultry tone.

Jughead bites his cheek to keep from laughing. “I love you,” he breathes into her neck.

“I’m trying to be sexy here, Jug,” she insists with a frown on her face.

“You’re sexy all the time,” he tells her. “But don’t worry, I am very excited to unwrap my gift.”

“You better be.”

*

_“Betty, where are you going?” Alice demands as her daughter races down the steps in a rush, making more noise than anticipated._

_“To Veronica’s to get ready,” Betty responds as she steps into a pair of shoes with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a smaller one sitting in the crook of her elbow containing makeup and hair products._

_“But it’s Homecoming,” her mother says with a look of confusion._

_“I know, that’s why I’m going to Veronica’s,” Betty tells her. “My dress is there, she’s making her room into a full-on salon for us to get ready in, and the boys are meeting us there.”_

_“You’re not going to get ready here? I thought we could…” Alice trails off and clears her throat, her face becoming its signature steel. “What about pictures? It’s your first real Homecoming, and knowing Jughead quite possibly your last.”_

_“I’m sure Veronica’s mom will take some. I’ll get Veronica to send them to me and I’ll get them to you,” she replies quickly. “Can I go now? Veronica has Smithers waiting, she wants me there as soon as possible. She’s already pissed enough that administration made an announcement yesterday that if you cut school today you’re barred from Homecoming, so we only have, like, maybe three hours to get ready.”_

_“Sweetie, I just—I don’t know about this,” Alice insists._

_“Mom, this has been planned for two weeks. Veronica and I are getting ready at her place, the boys are to meet us there, we’re going to the dance, and then afterward we’re going back to Veronica’s with takeout and sleeping over,” Betty tells her. “It’s been the plan for two weeks—”_

_“I heard you the first time,” Alice snaps and Betty does her best to keep a blank face. “While we are on the topic of plans, what is it for tomorrow? I’d hate to interrupt your busy schedule.”_

_“It’s Jug’s birthday. I’m going to head to the trailer after I wake up at V’s, and we’re going to do what we usually do—go to Pop’s and the Bijou. You know how Jug is about his birthday, Mom,” Betty reminds her. “Smithers is waiting and Veronica’s on a meltdown because her curler broke and I told her I’d bring mine, but she won’t calm down until she sees it.”_

_“I guess so. Have fun,” Alice tells her dryly._

_“I will. Bye!” Betty says too cheerfully before running out the front door and not looking back._  

“Betty!” Veronica snaps her out of her daze.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asks with blinking eyes.

“I said,” her friend says with a small smile, “I’m happy with you now, go ahead and put your dress on.”

“Oh, sorry,” she murmurs and stands.

They did their hair first, then make-up (well, food then make-up), but upon final inspection, Veronica found a flaw in Betty’s hair that needed to be corrected before they put their dresses on.

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been kind of ditzy since you got here,” Veronica asks softly.

“Ditzy? Thanks!” Betty says in a half-laugh, an attempt to put herself in a better mood.

“Not ditzy, out of it,” she corrects.

“It’s my mom—we’re in this stalemate to see who will attack first, so until then it’s the Cold War at my house. She’s—” Betty stops to exhale, “when I left today she was upset because she thought I would get ready with her and take pictures with Jug there. I hurt her, and that was the point, kind of, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like shit about it.”

“I’m sorry, B,” Veronica tells her in that same kind voice. “I know it’s tough. I’m around there with my dad. He’s—he’s being too much, and only my father has that capability from behind bars. He’s writing letters and sending too expensive gifts, all because he knows I’m mad at him. He still has my mom wrapped around his finger and has her on his side. She says I should call, go visit, at least answer a letter, but he doesn’t even understand that what he did is wrong.”

“I’m sorry, V,” Betty mimics.

“I want to talk to him, learn how to forgive him, but,” Veronica sighs herself. “He hasn’t changed, he hasn’t learned anything. He swooped in and arranged this hostile takeover to put Cousin Andre in charge of the company, but he’s just a puppet. My mom controls him, and my dad controls her still. It’s all so messed up.”

“Riverdale’s motto shouldn’t the Town with Pep,” Betty mentions, “it should be the Town with the Most Dysfunctional Families.”

Veronica smiles. “It really should. C’mon, it’s dress time. The boys will be here in fifteen minutes. We are not going to let family drama affect us today. It’s too important of a day.”

Ten minutes later Betty’s staring at herself in the mirror unable to form words.

Her hair is reminiscent of a pin-up style, lightly curled and pinned to the side opposite of her soulmark. It looks so elegant and soft and natural even though it took many bobby pins and too much hairspray. Her makeup is flawless, but this is something Betty knew Veronica had a talent for. She didn’t go the smoky route this time, instead going with the pink of the dress and making her look delicate and sexy at the same time.

She looks at herself under heavy lids, willing the butterflies in her stomach to calm the hell down.

Betty’s never felt so beautiful before, but that doesn’t stop her hands from getting the shakes.

She rolls her plumped lips together and tries to breathe. “It’s just Jughead,” she whispers to herself. He’d think she looked wonderful in a trash bag and happily lead her into the gym-turned-dance locale.

“Oh, my God!” Veronica practically squeals as she exits the bathroom with her mom. Apparently, she’d needed help with a zipper, but Betty thinks her mom wanted to talk privately for a few minutes. “Betty! You look amazing!”

“You really do, sweetie,” Veronica’s mom agrees. “Is that…” she adds on, her eyes zeroing on Betty’s chest—her soulmark.

“Oh,” she looks down and remembers that Veronica’s mom didn’t know. “Yeah, tonight is our big reveal. I guess I should be prepared to have people staring all night.”

“How long has it been a secret?” Hermione wonders aloud.

“Over a year,” Veronica answers for her. “Aren’t they cute? I mean, it’s disgusting when they get mushy, but they’re so happy,” her best friend coos.

Before her mom or Betty can respond there’s a buzz and Veronica instantly perks up.

“The boys are here! Right on time! Probably because Kevin is so excited,” Veronica says quickly in her own excitement.

“I’ll get the door, Mija, that way you two can make a grand entrance,” Hermione says with a wink before exiting the room.

“I am so nervous,” Betty admits in a breath.

“Betty, it’s Jughead, everything will be fine,” Veronica assures her as she grabs onto her hands. “You have no reason to be nervous. I’m telling you, mark or no mark that boy is putty around you.”

Betty smiles a little. “I know, he’s amazing, but I—I’ve wanted to show our marks for so long I’m just so anxious to get it over with.”

“Don’t worry, Kevin and I have that all planned out,” Veronica insists.

“You do?”

“Of course, we’ve got your back, B,” she assures her. “All we have to do is tell one or two loud-mouthed people and it’ll be old news by the time Reggie tries to spike the punch.”

“Old news?” Betty questions.

“Alright, not old news, but everyone will know so no one will be walking up and asking. We’ll get the word around, so you won’t be too annoyed, we hope,” Veronica corrects herself.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you moved here?”

“Once or twice, but I always love to hear it,” Veronica says. “Now, final lookovers. Anything on me that needs fixed or touched up?” she asks before giving a slow twirl.

She looks impeccable, Betty thinks. The lacy black dress looks like it was made for her—it’s completely made up of lace with a round neckline with cap sleeves. The lace patterns continue all the way down the bodice into a flared skirt. To make it a little extra, which of course is so Veronica, it has a back cut out showing off a bit more skin. Never one to go without heels, she matches it off with black peep-toe heels, and her hair is down in loose waves, but not one strand is out of place.

“You belong in a magazine, V,” Betty says after a long moment.

“For the final touch,” Veronica announces while opening the top drawer of one of her dressers to reveal a line of gloves in black, white, and nude, some short and others long, most lace but a few solid. She makes a show of picking up a delicate pair made of lace and puts them on with complete grace. “Ta-da!”

“I know my whole world is Riverdale, but I can confidently say that there is no one else like you anywhere,” Betty insists.

“That’s the goal. Now you,” Veronica tells her and spins her finger in a loop.

Betty gets the point and does her own twirl. When she finishes and looks at Veronica her face is all smiles.

“I need to get my phone out. Jughead is doing to die when he sees you,” she states.

“Veronica, Betty, the boys are waiting!” Hermione calls and Betty’s butterflies are back in full force.

“Ready to knock ‘em dead?”

Betty nods and they link hands as they exit her bedroom.

The three boys are circled around another, all laughing, each wearing the suits Veronica had tailored for them. Jughead disliked the experience as a whole, but had done it for Betty and complained very little. In all honesty, Betty hadn’t thought it was necessary—Jug owned a perfectly fine suit, it wasn’t the perfect fit, but Betty didn’t care, but there was no arguing with Veronica.

Now, looking at her soulmate in the black suit fitted to him, showing off his broad shoulders and lean body, she’s more than thankful to Veronica. Because, holy shit! She notices immediately that he’s not wearing his beanie and his hair is perfectly coiffed, looking fluffy and drool-worthy. Betty thinks Toni might have had something to do with that and she mentally reminds herself to thank the other girl later.

Veronica takes off towards the boys immediately, but Betty stays back.

She locks eyes with Jughead whose boyish grin turns into a gleaming smile. He steps away from their friends and makes his way over to her. Betty barely notices that his pocket square is the exact color of her dress, but knows it’s just another thing Veronica had a hand in.

“Hi,” she breathes, unable to use her voice.

Jughead openly looks her up and down, not knowing exactly where to stare. His eyes continually move from her eyes to their mark, her chest, and the hint of leg showing through the slit in her dress.

“Wow,” is his response, his own voice a crack that causes him to clear his throat. “You—wow.”

Betty ducks her head, bashful, and does her best to avoid wiping her sweaty palms on the dress.

It’s pale pink with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline that, for once, broadcasts her breasts, albeit tastefully. It’s tight on her waist before flowing down the rest of her body. There is a slit up her left leg that she knows he will make useful later in the night. She has white sling-back heels on, putting herself in his eye line.

“You look wow too,” she whispers and bites her bottom lip.

“Not at all compared to you,” he responds easily before linking both their hands together to pull her body against his. He rests his forehead on hers and gives her that goofy heart eyes look that he knows makes her turn to mush.

“Stop,” she murmurs, squeezing his fingers that are interwoven between her own.

“Why are you nervous?” he questions and swipes his thumb over her hand in circles to help calm her down.

“I don’t know, I think it’s the buildup, the anticipation and—” she’s cut off with his lips on hers. It’s innocent, but leaves her breathless all the same.

“You look beyond incredible, Betts,” he says against her lips before kissing her again. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you, Juggie. You too,” she insists in an attempt to find her voice.

“I look beautiful?”

Betty rolls her eyes and pushes on his chest with their joint hands. “Shut up.”

“Yoo-hoo, lovebirds! We’re going to be more than fashionably late if we don’t hurry up,” Kevin sing-songs. “We still have pictures to do!”

“Keep your pants on, Kev, we’re coming,” Jughead assures him as they join the group.

“You’ll be wishing later you hadn’t said that,” Kevin responds with a wink that makes Betty chortle. “Betty, you look… gay man fanning himself speechless hot,” he adds on.

“That’s a high compliment from you, Kev, thanks,” she says genuinely and hugs him gently.

“I know it probably seems redundant at this point—”

“Wait, Arch, you know the word ‘redundant’?” Jughead cuts in, causing the redhead to punch him in the shoulder none-too-gently.

“You look really pretty, Betty,” Archie finishes.

“Thank you, Archie,” Betty says and hugs him too. “You look very handsome too.”

Veronica blinks up at Jughead, waiting, and Betty elbows him in the gut. “Oof—you look great too, Veronica,” he speaks up.

“Thank you, Jughead. I think this is the longest I’ve seen you without that hat,” she replies. “Pictures? Mom,” she continues on, which cues Hermione to get up and grab the expensive-looking camera that is similar to the one Mildred Mabel had at the football game.

They take a plethora of pictures, in all combinations. Everyone together, then with their respective dates putting on corsages and boutonnieres, just the girls, only the boys, and each doing a pose on their own. Betty with Veronica and Kevin, both kissing his cheeks. Betty with Jughead and Archie, both kissing her cheeks. Archie lifting Veronica up onto his shoulder  and another of Archie holding Kevin bridal style.

“Okay, I think I have about a hundred pictures here,” Hermione laughs as they finish up.

“I can’t wait to look at each and every one, but we have to get going. I’ll be back before midnight, Mom,” Veronica says with a kiss to her mother’s cheek.

“I’ll hold you to it. You all be good, okay?” she insists in return.

They all respond in a chorus of, “We will!” as they shuffle out the door excitedly.

The theme of their Homecoming is Twilight Sparkle—which only won because it’s from My Little Pony and adolescents can take nothing seriously, apparently.

Being on the Dance Committee Betty knew what to expect—the dark glow of the gymnasium, glimmering silver stars the Metal Fab kids made for a grade hanging from the ceiling from invisible strings, twinkle lights draped across the mini gazebo made by the Woodshop class, and a mixture of gray-blue and silver drapery hanging from the tables and chairs to set the mood.

“Oh, my God, B!” Veronica gasps upon inspection, her eyes darting around the gym. “I was expecting, like, Walmart streamers and a disco ball, wow.”

“I’m glad you have so much faith in me,” Betty teases as she tightens her arm around Jughead’s in anticipation of actually going in.

“Not you, Riverdale High. I didn’t know the Dance Committee had a decent budget, now I’m willing to join,” the brunette explains.

Betty rolls her eyes, remembering all the time she told Veronica to join at the beginning of the school year only to be shut down. “It’s not so much a budget as it was appropriate planning. I had to meet with Mr. Schuler, who teaches both Metal Fabrications and Woodshop, to see if the advanced students were capable of my ideas. Mr. S said yes, he had most of the materials at his disposal, and since I went to him at the beginning of the year there was more than enough time for the students to get a jump start on it.”

“I am certainly impressed,” Veronica states and re-loops her arms through both of her dates’ elbows. “C’mon boys, I need to make an entrance,” she insists and tugs them to get going.

“She’s right, you know,” Jughead speaks up, making Betty turn to him. “This place looks amazing. You’d never know I was running laps in it a week ago.”

“Yeah? Tell me about that experience,” Betty teases as she leads them to a table. She’s not interested in making an entrance or having all eyes on her. All she needs is Jughead beside her.

“It involved a fair amount of cursing and glaring at inanimate objects, my usual,” he answers easily while pulling a chair out for her.

As soon as Jughead sits too she laces their fingers together. “Thank you so much for doing this, Juggie,” she murmurs, her voice soft. “I know this isn’t your scene and you only did it for me. I need you to know how much it means to me.”

He smiles at her while biting his bottom lip, even ducking his head a little. “Betty, stop—”

“No, Jug, I need you to know how much I appreciate this,” she insists.

“Betty, stop, I mean it,” Jughead tells her. “You’re my soulmate and this is,” he stops to look around the dressed-up gym, “this is nothing, really. You know I would do anything to make you happy, and the mere fact that you respect that and never take advantage of it, it just makes me even more willing to do whatever it takes to put that smile on your face.”

Betty doesn’t bother to be bashful about the blush flaring up across her cheeks. “You know you’re getting laid tonight, right? You don’t have to sweet talk me, Jones.”

“Hey, I’m playing the long game here, not short. I gotta look past tonight. I have to think of the future as a whole.”

Betty shakes her head and looks over her shoulder to find Veronica with the boy in the mini gazebo where a professional photographer is set up.

“She’s going to drag us over there, isn’t she?” Jughead interrupts her train of thought and causes her to turn back to him. “Even though we just took a million pictures at her house.”

“Without a doubt,” Betty answers, but can’t stop the small smile from forming on her lips.

She can’t help but love the little traditions Homecoming brings—getting dressed up with her best friends, taking ridiculous pictures that will end up getting roasted on Facebook, and then buying the fancy one by the photographer for her mom to put up on the wall. The smile forms into a thin line at that because Polly doesn’t have a Homecoming picture hung in their home, since she ‘secretly’ went with Jason last year.

Should she get one if Polly doesn’t have one?

Does it matter? Will Polly ever come home? Does she even really have a sister anymore?

“Hey,” Jughead shakes their intertwined hands and pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“C’mon, I didn’t ask you to the dance so we could sit in the corner. I want to show that mark off,” he says while already standing and tugging her to stand.

“It’s not about showing it off,” Betty insists as he leads her to the dance floor.

He raises his eyebrows when he takes her into his arms.

“Okay, it might be a little, but,” she pauses as they find the beat to the song, “it’s more about finally being free to be me.”

Jughead ignores the fast tempo of the song and pulls her body flush to his before kissing her.

Betty forgets where they are for a moment, but only a moment. “Jug! You know the rules—any PDA gets you kicked out of the dance,” she reminds him.

“I just can’t bring myself to attempt to dance while in a suit. It’s a little ridiculous listening to grinding music at Homecoming while we are all dressed up like this,” he explains.

“Sorry, but the DJ isn’t allowed to play music with swear words or heavy sexual innuendos, so it’s mostly songs without words,” Betty tells him while wrapping her arms around his neck, ignoring the up-beat tempo to simply be close to him without getting yelled at. They aren’t grinding or touching each other inappropriately, even if they look silly while doing it.

“It’s soft-core dubstep and I’m doing my best to pretend it isn’t killing me for you,” he admits.

“My hero,” Betty coos affectionately. “But it’s only until The Pussycats come on. They have a set in the middle of the dance so they can actually enjoy Homecoming too.”

“C’mon! The word is spreading about you two like wildfire so let’s get you out of the line of fire, huh?” Kevin appears next to them, the smile never leaving his face. “Pictures!”

“Kev—” Jughead’s plea falls on deaf ears since they are already being tugged through the crowd towards the gazebo. “We just took more pictures than I ever want of me in this monkey suit—”

“Hey,” Betty pulls him closer by his lapels to kiss him soundly on the lips. “You look nothing short of incredible in this suit, Jughead Jones,” she states before letting him go. “You have nothing to be weary of.”

“Yeah, this is the longest I’ve ever seen you without that hat on,” Veronica comments with her phone in her hands. “Did you know that the photos automatically upload to the photographer’s website so you can see them?” she goes on.

“Why aren’t you wearing your hat, Jug?” Archie asks with hands in his pockets, their personal photo-op apparently over.

Jughead runs his hand through his perfectly fluffy hair as if to soothe himself. “It didn’t feel appropriate,” her answers.

“Appropriate? You wear it to everything, everywhere. We have a bet going to see if you’ll wear it under your cap at graduation,” Kevin mentions as his eyes stay glued to Veronica’s phone.

“Secret bet,” Betty mumbles as she makes a face at her friend.

Jughead raises an eyebrow at her, but she shrugs in response. “I just didn’t, okay? Can we drop it?”

“Fine with me. I was just as happy to see him without it. You two ready? Picture time!” Veronica says excitedly.

Because they aren’t as high-strung as Veronica and/or Kevin they didn’t get nearly as many photos taken. Just a few simple poses, mainly smiling side by side, their arms around each other. Plus, a couple in the ‘prom pose’ of Jughead behind her, his arms wrapped around her middle, and her hands laid over his.

Still, when Veronica shows her the final product on the website Betty mentally makes a note to text the website address to her mom so she can order one. Being so cold and manipulative is something she definitely learned from her mother, and she still plans on fighting the silent war they’ve declared, but—she’ll want a picture of her and Jughead hung in the house when it’s all over. One she can look at and remember this night, what it means, and that hopefully, their family feud is over.

Despite all the familial worries floating around in her head, Betty manages to do her best at ignoring them. How can she dwell on them when she’s surrounded by her best friends, her soulmate, and her soulmark being shown to the world? Especially with what they have planned for the weekend.

“C’mere,” Jughead murmurs in her ear and leads her off to the side of the bleachers that a few kids are sitting on, a couple girls are even crying on—it’s not a dance unless one girl ends up in tears, right?

“Juggie, what?” Betty asks in a laugh before he claims her lips with his. Rather than be responsible and remind him of the rules, Betty leans into him and lets him deepen their kiss. “Mm, what’s that for?” she hums with her eyes closed as he pulls away.

“You’re happy, it makes me happy,” he answers and kisses her again. “And I won’t lie, that dress is… if you think I’m staring at our mark I’m definitely not. I can’t stop looking these,” he admits before ducking his head to ghost his lips across her breasts.

“Juggie!” she gasps and jerks away to look around.

“Betts, no one is around,” he assures her. “I’ve been scoping the place out all night. Disappearing is my forte, remember?”

Betty accepts defeat and leans in to his neck before carding a hand through his hair. “Your hair is so soft, it’s unfair,” she whispers against his skin.

“One of the better Jones genes,” Jughead jokes with his hands low on her waist.

“Hm, you think you’ll get your dad’s amazing beard growing abilities?” she teases.

“I don’t know, I feel like that’s more of his magical ability,” Jughead goes along with her. “I swear, he can go to bed clean shaven and wake up full-on Big Foot.”

“I like your face clean,” Betty tells him, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “’Cause I’ve kissed your dad with his beard and it’s itchy.”

“Good, because I think that is something that will come with age. Right now all I get is a weird shadow mustache and patches.”

Betty rests her face in the crook of his neck, simply enjoying the closeness. “You aren’t wearing your hat,” she says after a silent minute or so.

“I thought we went over this,” he sighs.

“No, they went over it. I had no comment,” she reminds him. “You know I don’t care if you wear it. It’s part of you at this point.”

“So you bet I would wear it under my cap at graduation?” Jughead questions.

“No, I bet you would have it in your back pocket to put on after you threw the cap in the air,” she answers. “But I was wondering why you went without it.”

Jughead lets out a long breath that tickles her neck. “I—I can’t show our mark like you,” he begins softly. “I can, but not in this particular situation and—I know you’ve been anxious for everyone to finally see, to stare and gawk, so I thought I’d make myself vulnerable too.”

“Aw, Juggie,” Betty presses her lips into his. “That’s sweet. I love you.”

“I love you more,” he counters and brushes their noses together. “Now that the big reveal is over are you nervous about tonight? If you’re having second thoughts—”

“No, stop,” she interrupts. “I’m having no second thoughts, none at all. I want it to happen, I’m ready,” she assures him. “I am getting nervous though. Not about being like that with you or finally doing it, but,” she stops and blushes, “like what do I do with my hands?”

“What do you mean?” he chuckles.

“I—what if I scratch you? Or pull your hair out? Or—”

“Please do,” he cuts in once more. “Don’t worry about the details. As we’ve done with everything so far, we’ll learn together.”

“So you’re not nervous?”

“Oh, no, I’m totally nervous,” he says and she huffs jokingly. “About hurting you or doing it wrong.”

“I don’t think you can do it wrong,” Betty tells him. He looks at her with a ‘really?’ face. “Okay, technically you can, but it won’t, not with us. It could never be wrong with us.”

Their lips come together again, but Betty pulls away almost instantly. “What?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asks.

Betty listens and hears it again. “Betty!”

“I think that’s Veronica,” she mumbles and tugs him out of their hiding spot.

“I don’t even—” Jughead is stopped when Veronica appears before them.

Betty catches her in her arms. “V, what’s wrong?”

“I—we,” the brunette tries to explain, but can’t find the words.

“Did something happen? Did someone do something?” Betty questions. “V, what—”

“Veronica!” Archie is there now, looking out of breath and desperate. “Ronnie, we have to talk!”

“About what? What is going on?” Jughead asks this time.

Archie looks to Veronica, who refuses to look at him and instead clings to Betty. Without any kind of reaction from Veronica, Archie squares his shoulders back and decides on his answer. “Veronica and I, we marked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate! More to be fleshed out next!  
> And yes, what you really want to happen is going to happen next chapter. I'll give you that ;)  
> Leave a comment or a kudos, yeah?

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if anything is hard to follow or you have questions!! I'll answer!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at www.anactualcaseofthetruth.tumblr.com


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